Casting Stones
by Eldr-Fire
Summary: After years of iron rule, Root has fallen. Dutybound to sort through its orphans, Sai is faced with a girl whose parentage has haunted him. Pink hair and gray eyes stare him down. Adapted from Doctor Zhivago film for the Summer of Love contest on LJ.
1. The Private Life is Dead

Author's Note: This is my entry for the Summer of Love contest on the KakaSaku LJ community. The task was to adapt a movie from between 1920 and 1969. I have chosen the 1965 film _Doctor Zhivago_, based on the book by Boris Pasternak. The film was directed by David Lean and starred Omar Sharif (Zhivago) and Julie Christie (Lara). Given the time restraint of the contest (one month) and the word limit (35,000, which I DO make, despite FFN's calculations), it is a rather loose adaptation and could have been better tweaked, but I chose to end it in time for the contest rather than spend more time working on it.

If you haven't seen the movie, you can still understand the story. However, if you plan on seeing it and don't want the movie spoiled, I respect that!

I would like to thank several people for helping this story happen: AnimeFreak688, Law, Alifestylechoice, Caitiy, and above all nimblnymph, for their time and attention. It could not have happened without you guys! Also, thanks to anyone else who just listened to me talk about it a lot!

* * *

The Private Life is Dead

* * *

_"The private life is dead— for a man of any manhood."_

_- Strelnikov (Tom Courtenay)_

* * *

Sai stood stone still.

The dim glow of the moonlight intruded on his solitude. It sifted in through the window like smoke, worming its way through the cracks in the shutters. His office was covered in an ethereal dusting of light, broken only by his solid figure, which blocked a broad shaft of the invasive illumination.

A thick silence hung in the air like humidity. It dragged beads of sweat down Sai's moonwashed skin, soaking him in anticipation. A clock ticked invisibly on the wall, measuring each wasted second.

Tick.

Tardiness always irked him, but today it was unbearable. On the surface, of course, he appeared as smooth as ever, but his heart was racing. He had come to understand that this was a reaction to anticipation. He was accustomed to experiencing it in battle, but there was no enemy here today— only an appointment.

He had a right to be annoyed. They had arranged this meeting, after all. But maybe she wouldn't come?

Nothing was on time these days, though. The village was in a time of chaos. It was a positive kind of chaos, but the dissolution of a decades-old system, while inevitable for years, was still hard to deal with.

Tock.

Although the delay was understandable, Sai found that knowing there was a logical reason for it was actually not improving his anxiety. As firmly as he clung to the logic, he couldn't stop his mind from galloping off in less pleasant directions.

Tick.

Sai was actually happy that things in Konoha were changing. (Over time he had learned to recognize happiness, although he was still far from understanding it.) Root had never meant to be on top; in its very name it was meant to be a foundation for Konoha, giving it support from underground. Its ways were not suited to the upfront running of a city. Naturally Sai had never voiced such an opinion during Root's time in power, but he had sensed it for a long time now.

Tock.

_Should I have spoken up, though?_ he questioned himself. Uncertainty tickled his guilty heart. He imagined he could hear its fiendish laughter at his misfortune, torturing him with all of these questions. Should he have done more? Maybe. Especially when…

Tick.

He gulped. Today was quiet. His days were not normally so quiet.

Sai had never directly participated in one of the most abominable of the Root practices: the recruitment of children. Now, however, it was his job to sort through these children. Some of them had been orphans, but others had been seized from their homes to serve Danzou. Their original identities had been erased from the official records, but it was the hope that Sai, with his own experience as a "reformed" Root youth, could help rediscover these children.

But should he have done more?

Tock.

He had been asked to do more. Years ago now.

Tick.

Was it too late? Should he even be bothering?

Tock.

But these were not the questions he needed to be asking himself. _Should he even be bothering… _He could have kicked himself. Of course he should be. It was his duty to extract backgrounds from these children, for one thing. And this particular child was someone he owed a special…

Apology.

Tick.

The right question struck Sai like lightning.

_Will saying sorry be enough?_

Tock.

A sharp rap on the door shattered the silence, gripping Sai's thoughts and jarring them back into the reality of the room. The continued knocks on the door matched perfectly the thudding of his own racing heart as he flicked the light switch beside him. He could see the silhouette of his visitor now. The fuzzy outline in the window of his door was so calm and still, contradicting the way his heart screamed. He wondered briefly, as he lifted his clipboard from the table, if all people felt regret so sharply, or if his pain was so great because he was such a newcomer to feeling.

The pounding ceased and a ringing silence was left. Sai was compelled to fill it. "Come in," he ordered.

Tentatively, the door was pushed open. Sai watched unflinchingly as a girl entered the room.

She stood perfectly still as he scrutinized her appearance. The first thing he noticed was a black strap that cut diagonally across her torso; the handle of a sword peeked over her shoulder.

_Interesting_, he noted. He peered down at his clipboard.

_Agent C00444. Affinity: Lightning. Genjutsu: Lv. 4. Ninjutsu: Lv. 4. Taijutsu: Lv. 3. Approx. 16 yrs old. _Ah, now there was one that was actually useful in identifying her. He glanced up to confirm. She was a skinny teenager, self-consciously favoring one side by putting her weight on her left foot.

So far, so good. Sai checked off a point on his mental list.

Her eyes were dark enough gray to be black. Carnation pink hair touched her shoulders; the color was so soft in contrast to the stiff gray clothes she wore. The hair was tied back by the garment that had led Sai to notice her in the first place: a bottle-green bandana. Members of Root were not allowed to wear something so unique. It must have been kept hidden for years.

She met his gaze evenly. He was surprised; most Root children would not dare to look a superior in the eye like that. Perhaps she was already snapping out of her years of indoctrination. Sai fought back a smile. If this girl were who he thought she was, her resilience wouldn't be that surprising.

Finished with his observations, Sai addressed her. "I am Sai." He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black coat. "Sit down."

The girl obediently sat at the metal card table in the middle of the office. Sai took a seat on her left, his eyes never leaving her face.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

The girl blinked. "I do not have a name, sir," she answered mechanically. Sai recognized the cadence perfectly; it was the answer that all Root members had to memorize. But this girl must have been five years old when she was taken; surely she could remember what her name had been.

Sai leaned forward. "Root is done. You can tell me your real name now."

The girl's eyes darted fearfully to the side. Sai waited patiently. Finally, she swallowed and answered, "Uchiha Yousei, sir."

That name was very familiar to Sai. He remembered a woman screaming it down the halls of Root, and then seeing the same woman's face on an arrest warrant nailed to a post.

"Yousei," he repeated. The girl looked uncomfortable with him using the name; it had been years since anyone had called her by it. He was impressed that she had clung to it for so long in silence. "I am here to help you get back to your family. You had a family, didn't you?"

No response. Restraining a sigh, Sai asked, "Do you remember your father?"

Yousei stared at the table, her eyes wide and fearful. "No, sir."

"But your mother?"

"Yes, sir."

Sai nodded. "Good. What did she look like?"

The girl remained mute.

"Did she look like you?" Sai pressed.

Offering a shrug, Yousei bit her lip. Sai was not convinced. "Did she have pink hair, like yours?"

Dark eyes darted up to meet his. "Yes, sir."

Sai leaned back in his chair. "Good. You're doing very good. Now, tell me… Uchiha is your family name?"

"Yessir."

"Do you know anything about that name, Yousei?"

Her soft pink lips parted as if she were about to answer, but she seemed to second-guess herself, clamping her mouth shut again. "Go on," Sai encouraged. "You won't get into trouble."

This girl was so beautiful in such a familiar way. It was no wonder she had caught Sai's attention. Her eyes fluttered to the side, reluctance coupled with resignation reflected in them as she told him, "The Uchiha family was a disgrace to Konoha. They were a family of traitors."

"Where did you learn that?" he asked, trying to soften his interrogative tone.

"People talk."

Sai smiled. This seemed to frighten the girl, and he mentally berated himself: Nobody had ever liked his smiles. "That they do," he agreed. "Have you heard anything about your father?"

She shook her head. Sai nodded. "That's just as well, then," he said pleasantly. "Because Uchiha Sasuke is not your father."

Her eyes widened into frightened, cloudy orbs. Silence rang in the room.

"You know who my father is?" she asked. Her voice was surprisingly calm.

Sai narrowed his eyes into coal-black slits that cut across his pale face. "For someone so scared, your words are very measured." She looked alarmed, her face suddenly ashen. "You display good control over your emotions. Of course, I would expect nothing less of you. You were raised in Root, after all." He leaned forward, eyeing her closely. "But you weren't born there."

Yousei scowled. "Don't play games with me!" she snapped.

This startling display of defiance threw Sai off. He cocked his head slightly to the side, looking at Yousei as if for the first time. "You are very much like your mother," he remarked. "Tell me, do you remember how you came to be lost?"

The girl was tense. "I've forgotten."

Abruptly standing, Sai scraped the chair across the floor and moved to the window. The shades were drawn, but his eyes bored into them. "Okay then," he said. "Let me tell you."

* * *

Kakashi released a soft sigh of satisfaction. Running his tongue over his lips to savor the last drops of sake, he placed the cup down on the wooden table.

What a relief. He doubted he could have handled much more of that reception, what with all of those simpering dignitaries— the formality of it all was stifling. Not to mention that he had needed to endure the tense jokes from his friends who were all pretending that this wasn't so forced and fake as they all knew it to be. Being a shinobi trained in the arts of deception, Kakashi had been able to put on as good a mask as the rest of them — the best, as the circumstances demanded — but it had still been exhausting. After all, who would have known that he would have to employ his best act yet at his own wedding?

He slid his gaze over to the woman standing nervously across the room from him. There was no question that his wife was pretty. Right now, her hair was done up in a complicated composition of ringlets and triangles that Kakashi couldn't even begin to understand, but he had caught a glimpse of it down and knew that it fell down her back in a dark brown sheet. Wide black eyes nervously avoided his gaze, standing out against her powdered face. She was not, he had gathered, a timid person, but anyone would be nervous in such an uncomfortable situation as this. Her elaborate wedding costume was perfectly arranged by the line of women who had followed her everywhere before the wedding. Now they were all gone, already on their way back home to Rain Country.

Her name was Ojou Yousei. As the daughter of the recently instated Rain Country daimyou, she had probably had a few months to grow accustomed to the parade of ladies in waiting that came with the position. Her new life in Konoha would include no such perks. Of course her status would still be respected, but there was really only one thing anyone here expected of her: To be little more than a glorified breeding horse.

Kakashi tipped the bottle of sake in her direction. "Would you like a drink?"

Hesitant only for a moment, she nodded enthusiastically. He poured the clear liquid into a small porcelain cup, decorated with the most intricate pale pink designs and absent of a single imperfection. The entire wedding had been funded by her father, who had no doubt wanted to impress his new Konoha allies.

"Thank you," Yousei murmured when Kakashi handed her the cup.

Kakashi offered a tight smile as she took a sip. "You'd best enjoy alcohol while you still can."

Her blush showed through her faded make-up, but he could see a wry smile curling her mouth as she set her cup down. "I'm afraid my figure might not be ideal for child-bearing," she admitted, gesturing down at herself. Kakashi followed her movement, but honestly he had no idea _what _she might look like underneath those layers of folded silk.

But then, he'd be finding out eventually, wouldn't he? The whole idea was that they were supposed to have children together, after all. There was really only one way to go about completing that objective.

"Let's sit," Kakashi said, pointing at the chairs next to the table. She seemed surprised that he was waiting for her to sit first. He was used to letting the lady seat herself first, but perhaps where she came from the woman was supposed to defer to the man by waiting for him to sit? It seemed that they had different ideas about politeness and the formalities of interaction.

The whole thing suddenly seemed so silly to Kakashi. He had just gotten married to a woman he did not know from a country he had never liked under the orders of a man he could not stand. With a sigh, he slumped into the chair across from Yousei and poured himself another cup of sake. Raising it to his lips, he observed her again over the rim. The way he had unceremoniously deposited himself into the chair must have been the justification she needed to stop pretending she wanted to keep paying attention to him; she was now staring rather forlornly at the wooden wall. Kakashi didn't blame her; he, too, had so many thoughts distracting him from the fact that he was supposed to consider this woman his wife now.

Rain Country had gone through yet another radical political shift after the war. The people had been shocked and horrified to find out that their supposed god and his angel were international criminals bent on world domination. Never mind that Konan had hoped to make amends with Konoha via Naruto; she was tracked down and hunted by her own people towards the end of the war, and the political pendulum had swung violently. The leaders of the old rebel cause were disgraced. Overwhelming popular support had pushed to power supporters of Hanzou's old regime. Now it was as if things had never changed.

This new leadership in Amegakure suited Konoha's new interests well: For while Konoha had emerged as a victor of the Fourth Shinobi War, the village had fallen apart. Tsunade was dead, as were so many of her old supporters, so Danzou stepped in take the reins. Danzou's Konoha was a completely different place than the warm home that Kakashi remembered. It was militaristic and strict, with the only areas that got adequate funding being reconstruction, R&D and ANBU. The organization had been swelling under Danzou, who pumped as much money into it as he could spare. At the top were the members of the original Root, higher in rank than all but the Hokage.

But Danzou had also taken it upon himself to interfere in the personal lives of his shinobi. "For the sake of the village", he had decided to arrange unions for any unmarried ninja with considerable talent. As one of the most powerful (and most unattached) jounin of the village, Kakashi had been chosen right away for this matchmaking scheme.

And now here he was. He closed his eye, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Should we go look at our new house?"

Yousei gave a small sigh. "Yes." Her clothes rustled noisily as she stood, trying not to derail the intricately designed hair towering above her. She must have noticed the amusement that played across his face, because she turned up her nose and sniffed, "I'd like to see you try to balance this on your head."

She stalked past him, leading the way out of the room.

* * *

Red and white banners flapped furiously in the strong summer wind. Standing high up on the platform, Danzou had to clamp a hand over his wide-brimmed hat to keep it from flying away.

Sakura secretly wished it would. Wouldn't that make the whole situation better? That old lunatic hobbling around, chasing after a hat he had never deserved? A smirk worked its way through today's permanent frown. She squinted up at Danzou from the ground, cupping a hand around her eyes to block out the sun. She could just make him out, his stooping posture in stark contrast to the young man standing tall beside him. Sasuke's dark hair pierced the bright blue sky like a jagged black scar.

Suddenly mirthless, Sakura scowled. Of all the people who should be standing at the Hokage's right side on top of the tower, Sasuke was the last. Dead, dead last. He had been nothing more than a traitor. Sakura had always been holding out hope that he would come back to the village, but now when he _did _return, it was only to snub his teammates and offer his allegiances to Danzou? It made Sakura sick.

It was supposed to be Naruto up there. He had performed so spectacularly in the war— that is, until an unfortunate incident. Killer Bee's attempts to teach Naruto how to control his tailed beast had been rushed because of the immediate need for the jichuurikis' participation in the war. Consequently, while Naruto had contributed magnificently to the allies' eventual win, towards the end of the war he had nearly lost control against Madara. The enigmatic Uchiha was so adept at seducing the Kyuubi that it had nearly broken out of Naruto. Naruto eventually won out with the help of Danzou himself (who, they found out, possessed some of the First Hokage's genes thanks to Orochimaru and could help subdue the demon), but the damage was done. People still admired what Naruto had done to help them so many times, but their old fear was back. Naruto was too volatile, too loose of a cannon to truly trust and keep around the village. Not to mention he was only sixteen— the older he got, the more powerful he would grow, and the more unpredictable his demonic outbursts might become.

Knowing that Naruto had been a strong contender for the Hokage position and would no doubt perpetuate the same wishy-washy approach to governing modeled by his predecessors, Danzou took advantage of this renewed fear held by the people of Konoha. At a time when they were rebuilding their city from rubble, he said, the last thing they needed was an unstable jinchuuriki. Naruto's dangers were exaggerated, his contributions downplayed, and while he was never outright labeled as an enemy, popular opinion turned against him. An angry mob, shinobi and civilian alike, had gathered one day to run him out of the city. Naruto hadn't had the heart to try to fight them back, so he had escaped.

It had been one of the worst days of Sakura's life. Naruto had been her anchor to hope, but now their team was more broken than ever. Who was left? Sai? Kakashi? Since Naruto left, she had not spoken to either of them. Sai was too busy transforming the country with Root, and Kakashi had gotten married of all things. Arranged, of course, as Danzou had added "matchmaker" to his long list of titles, but it was no doubt still keeping Kakashi occupied. While she could surely find a confidant in them, what use was there anyway in raging against the injustice of Naruto's exile? There was nothing any of them could do, nor anything they could say to comfort her.

And then there was Sasuke. Sometime during the final battle with Madara, Sasuke had disappeared. Several months later, once things had settled down again, he had collapsed at the village gates and handed himself over willingly to the authorities. Root had kept him in custody for a few weeks, presumably for a round of interrogation; everyone was convinced that finally, at least _some _justice would be served. Sakura had been more conflicted than ever; without Naruto, her conviction to "rescue Sasuke" had been dampened, especially when everyone around her was grumbling that it was about damn time.

To everyone's shock, Sasuke had been released. Details had been posted on the village bulletin next to the announcement for today's ceremony: Sasuke had actually helped to weaken Madara for Konoha and would return peacefully to the village ranks on the condition that his brother's name was cleared. In the time since that announcement had been made, Sasuke had made no attempt to contact Sakura. Presumably he didn't consider it important enough. After all, hadn't he once admitted that he only kept her team alive on a whim?

"Citizens of Konoha!" Danzou's voice warbled across the gathered crowd, fighting for dominance with the wind. Sakura was jarred out of her consuming thoughts. "Today is a momentous day in our village's history. Today, the office of Hokage is issuing a formal apology to Uchiha Sasuke!"

Some half-hearted clapping broke out. No one dared to stubbornly refuse to applaud, but that didn't mean they had to seem happy about it. Danzou couldn't arrest them for looking sour.

Sasuke remained stoic as Danzou turned towards him. "Uchiha Sasuke, you have been misjudged by the previous regime. While desertion is never truly the best path, you did what you felt you had to in the face of an administration that you found weak. You were right to observe that the reign of my predecessor was damaged by her inability to see past emotional clouds and rule with an iron fist."

Sakura didn't know whether to swear, laugh or cry. This was all wrong. Sasuke was supposed to _hate _Danzou. Hadn't he vowed to kill the elders to avenge Itachi? Wasn't Danzou his sworn enemy? And Sasuke leaving the village because he found Tsunade a weak leader was ludicrous. Tsunade hadn't had anything to do with it— it had been because Sasuke was a revenge-crazed _maniac_. Surely there was no one who was swallowing Danzou's pompous bullshit.

Yet in spite of her anger, she hung onto Danzou's every word. She wanted every single detail of Sasuke's double betrayal so that she could let it sink into her bones and saturate them with hate.

"But there is a much greater apology owed here today," Danzou continued. He faced the crowd again so that all could clearly hear him proclaim, "The office of Hokage is officially absolving the name of Uchiha Itachi!"

Obligatory applause. By now the word had spread that Itachi had been a double agent the entire time. Sakura was still processing the information, as were most who had been conditioned to hate that traitor of traitors— just as Sasuke had, but Sakura couldn't even _consider_ feeling any sympathy for his struggle with the revelation. Not when he was standing above them all so smugly.

Danzou rambled on about how Itachi had been wrongly used by the village, had his name slandered, been wrongly hunted by that evil bitch of a fifth Hokage, etcetera, etcetera. Sakura knew she wasn't the only one who saw the gaping holes in his story, but nobody was going to speak up. Not even her.

It was obvious to her what was happening here. Sasuke and Danzou had decided to put aside their differences so that they could use each other. She was witnessing the beginning of a power struggle. Each had a Sharingan that he undoubtedly resented the other for possessing. Sasuke likely considered it the ultimate slight to his clan that the man who had ordered its destruction had stolen its greatest treasure, and surely Danzou was eager to add Sasuke's eyes his repertoire. How formidable would his Konoha be with the power of the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan!

It could only end one of two ways. One of them would have to kill the other. They would both bide their time, locked in a tense battle, vying for power until one went too far and the other snapped.

Which would she rather see dead? Sakura snorted. Maybe she'd be lucky and they'd blow each other to pieces.

Danzou's voice faltered, and the congregation fell eerily quiet. Only the banners bearing the Uchiha colors twisting in the fierce gale made any noise. Sasuke observed the group stonily. Sakura wondered if he noticed her, one pink-haired girl in a sea of people. Did any affection for his former teammates linger in his rocky heart? They had risked so much to bring him back. But now he had waltzed in of his own accord and Team 7 was left in the dust to be scrutinized and silently persecuted by Danzou and his cronies.

Finally, when he had apparently had enough of looking down on them all, he stepped forward. The crowd waited, managing to feel curious. Sakura couldn't see his eyes but she knew they were hard.

"A minute of silence for my brother," Sasuke said coldly.

Sakura bowed her head with the rest and counted the seconds.

* * *

Kakashi finished strapping on his tall black sandals and stood up straight. The day had barely scratched at dawn and the sky was a pale, pearly gray. Chilly autumn breezes whistled crisply through the air.

He stood with his back to the front of his house. Right now, he probably should have been trying to lovingly memorize its appearance so that in the long months ahead he could easily think of home, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was not that attached to the place, having barely spent any time there. Most of his time was occupied with the countless missions Danzou assigned him.

This was not just a normal mission, though. Kakashi was going to war. No one had really expected the alliance among the Five Great Shinobi Countries to last, but it had been a nice idea to entertain for a little while. Kakashi was headed for the north of Waterfall Country to aid the fight against Earth. As usual, Earth was antagonizing Fire. The fight had been escalating for the past few months. Kakashi had been able to avoid it only for so long before he too was called to fight for his country.

He sighed. After the Nine Tails attacked when Kakashi was fourteen, an era of peace for Konoha had begun. Now… Well, it had been a nice dream.

"Kakashi?"

Weapons clinked and jostled in his pouches as Kakashi turned around to face his wife. She was standing in the doorway wearing a pale nightgown that brushed her anklebones. Cradled in her arms was an infant boy.

Kakashi walked up the path back to his house, stopping in front of Yousei. There were bags of skin bruised purple by sleep sagging beneath her pretty black eyes. She was always so tired. It was hard, raising the son of a man who was rarely there to help… and while it was shameful to admit, Kakashi did not think of her that often while away on missions. More frequently he thought of the friends he never got to see in between performing missions and seeing his son. But Yousei had sacrificed her entire life to come to Konoha and raise his children. In an uncharacteristic display of affection, he gently pushed a loose strand of silky brown hair behind her ear.

A smile broke through her exhaustion. "He's finally sleeping," she whispered.

Looking down at his son, Kakashi smiled too. The small bundle of blankets was capped with a tiny head, dusted at the top with hair the same color of the sky above. They had named him Takehiko.

Speaking of the sky, it was much lighter now. Tendrils of orange and pink slowly washed over the remnants of night. Soon, Kakashi would be late.

Oh well. He was honestly in little rush to go to Waterfall, condemning himself to months of dreadful winter. It actually _snowed _there. Kakashi shivered.

Yousei frowned. "Are you sure you can't tell me how long you'll be gone?"

Still looking at his son, Kakashi felt something twist in his heart. "Yes," he said simply. They had discussed it enough; every time, the answer was the same. Some men were only gone to war for months, others for years.

Somehow he got the feeling that Danzou wouldn't be feeling too merciful towards him. "Probably over a year," he confessed.

She swallowed. "He'll be bigger then…"

Kakashi dragged his mask down to his neck and bent forward to give his son's brow a light kiss. "Yes…" He straightened up and kissed Yousei, too. As with all of their kisses, it was brief. "But you can write. Tell me how much he's growing."

Nodding vaguely, she looked back down at the child in her arms. Her sadness was evident, but he was never sure how to console her. He supposed her loved her, in a way, but he still barely knew her.

"You write too," she told him. "Tell me what sorts of things are going on."

He cocked an eyebrow. It was hard to believe that a dignified civilian such as Yousei would be interested in the bloody battles he would be fighting. What did she want him to tell her? That he had killed three men today and was pretty convinced that his toes were falling off from the cold?

There was no helping it. They were just two very different people thrown together for the sake of good genes and politics. She meant well, though, and Kakashi patted her gingerly on the shoulder. "Sure," he said. Her lips pursed at his rather noncommittal answer, but he hoped she understood that he meant well, too.

Letting his hand slide into his pocket, Kakashi shifted his weight to the other foot. "Well, I should get going," he breathed. "Take care of Takechan for me, 'kay?"

Without looking at him, she nodded. He grimaced and gave her his signature two-fingered wave before turning and walking away.

He did not look back.

Dirty leaves crunched beneath his feet as he walked through the village. It was nice at this time of day, when it was only starting to wake up.

Of course, seeing a black-vested Root spy up every other tree didn't do much to improve his mood, but all in all the village was peaceful.

However, these early morning hours held a certain association for Kakashi. He rubbed his shoulder. He _was _going to be gone, probably for a very long time. It would just be unacceptable to refrain from paying his respects before embarking on this next trip.

The Memorial Stone sat just as serenely as it always did. The Fourth Great Shinobi War had added many names to its surface; they now trailed along the edges, obscured by the grass when it grew tall enough. Some of the oldest names at the top were becoming hard to read. Perhaps when he came back, Kakashi would suggest a restoration effort at the next jounin meeting.

He crouched in front of the simple rectangular monument. Wrists resting against his thighs, his hands dangled idly between his legs. Sometimes he still felt so helpless. There was nothing that he controlled anymore: Danzou ran everything. The Hokage designated not only his professional life but his personal as well. It seemed as if nothing had changed since he was the _useless_ thirteen-year-old boy who got pushed to safety by a boy he had always mocked for his pointlessness.

Kakashi brushed his calloused fingertips against the familiar name on the monument. _Uchiha Obito_. Kakashi had vainly hoped that sacrifices like Obito's had put an end to these terrible shinobi wars, but here he was, headed to fight in the next one.

_Pointless._

He wondered vaguely if he should say good-bye to any of his other friends— the living ones. Gai and Kurenai he still saw every now and then: Gai had professed to having an internal radar that tingled whenever Kakashi was back in town and compelled him to drop everything and dash to Kakashi's house… even if the Green Beast had been taking a bath. (It had taken at least a week to convince Yousei that he wasn't gay, and she still had her doubts.) Kurenai had stopped by when Takehiko was born, not that Kakashi had been in town for the birth. She had managed to get a hold of him when he was actually around. Other than those two, there were few people he had seen since the end of the war. Yousei had conceived within the first two months of their marriage, and all of his precious few moments in Konoha were then devoted to little Takehiko.

Then there was his team— or what was left of it. Kakashi swallowed hard around a lump in his throat. He didn't like to think about Team 7. Jaded could not even begin to describe how he felt now that the village had turned against Naruto. The few voices of his old friends and teammates had not been enough to convince everyone that Naruto was not harmful to them. Couldn't they understand that Madara, the only one with a chance of drawing out the Kyuubi, was dead now? It frustrated Kakashi to no end that they did not see this, but populist logic didn't work that way. Danzou had employed sensationalism and bred fear among the citizens, not to mention that he had twisted the truth pretty significantly. His changes of history led to the repetition of history: After all of Naruto's hard work to become accepted by the community, Danzou had rendered it all for naught by casting the jinchuuriki in the harsh light of shame.

Kakashi's fingers curled into a fist against Obito's name on the stone. This was why he didn't think about Naruto: It only made him angry. There was no place for this type of anger in Konoha. If Kakashi and the others who wanted to get rid of Danzou ever wanted to succeed, they'd have to hold their tongues until the time was right.

Not that Kakashi considered himself a revolutionary. If there was an underground resistance movement, he was not involved. He preferred to keep his head down and bide his time. Danzou would not live forever and things would eventually change.

Of course, right now Konoha faced the very real possibility that Sasuke could be next in line for the Hokage position. Danzou would be the last person to want this, but it was quite likely that it wouldn't be up to Danzou. Kakashi suspected that Sasuke was also biding his time, waiting until the old codger got too feeble and then overthrowing him in a _coup d'etat_. While it would be good to throw out the Root regime, Kakashi was not too optimistic for this version of the future. Sasuke did not seem to have much respect for Konoha. He undoubtedly viewed it as no more than a tool, a plaything. Granted, there was no guarantee that this was what was in store for Konoha either. Even if Sasuke did try to take control, it could lead to a civil war contesting his ascension.

What a mess. Kakashi felt ashamed that the Uchiha had ever been his student, that he had actually seen _himself _in the young boy. Now he wanted nothing to do with him.

Kakashi stood up, stretching his arms with a yawn. He had zero contact with Sasuke and Naruto. That left one more member of his original team…

But he didn't talk to Sakura, either. Part of it was just that he was so busy all the time, and she was as well, going on missions or working at the hospital. Even if they had overlapping free time, though, Kakashi would not approach her. He wouldn't know what to say.

His eyes skimmed the tops of the trees. In the distance he could see Konoha. Sakura was there now, probably not doing anything (aside from sleeping). Perhaps it would be nice to drop by and say good-bye…?

No. He would be at a loss for words, they would exchange some awkward conversation before he would leave, and they would both wish that he had never bothered.

Besides, the sun was definitely up now. Kakashi was running very late. He gave the Memorial Stone one final smile of farewell. Maybe this would be the mission he didn't come home from, and he'd soon be one of the names running along the edges of the stone into the grass. Either way, it was important that he gave the stone a proper good-bye in case he didn't see it again until his name was carved into it.

Not that he was planning on that happening. He did have a son now, after all. Being a father held certain responsibilities. His mind jumped to the broken halves of a tantou, stowed safely in his trunk at home. One day, he would pass it on to Takehiko. Perhaps he might even have it fixed. That way, it could be a memento of _him_, to remind him who his father was even after he had gone.

Gathering chakra in his legs, he sprung up from the ground and took to the trees.

The two men hiding in the shadows followed him to the gate. They watched him meet his team and endure their complaints. Content that he was not going to disobey orders, they made to leave, but something stopped them. Just before passing through the gate, Kakashi had turned. He seemed to be looking directly at them. Recognition flickered in his eye, and he smiled.


	2. Heaven or Some Such Place

Heaven or Some Such Place

* * *

"_Good marriages are made in heaven … or some such place."_

_- Alexander Gromeko (Ralph Richardson)

* * *

_

Sakura hugged herself. Exhaling slowly, she watched her foggy breath materialize, only to disappear into the cold afternoon air.

Being near the northern sea in the middle of winter was not something Sakura had been looking forward to, but this had become one of the most important camps in the war against Earth, and it was suffering from a problem that required Sakura's expertise. While she still went on missions, Danzou seemed to prefer to keep her close to home so that he could keep a better eye on her. However, since Shizune had died and Sakura had been given plenty of time to study, Sakura was now Konoha's resident poison expert.

The issue was that the enemy seemed to have _poison chakra_. It was one thing to avoid poisoned substances — any ninja worth their salt could do that — but it was another to avoid getting infected by a ninjutsu. It was starting to compromise the entire war effort, and Sakura had been sent to investigate. Although the climate was anything but desirable, Sakura was secretly glad to be away from Konoha. Danzou nursed a personal hatred for her. She was the living person with the strongest ties to Tsunade and the exiled Naruto—and consequently one of the people he considered most likely to revolt. This foray into the north had potential to be refreshing. She would get a chance to exercise her skill, and she would be very far away from Konoha's suffocating atmosphere.

Snowdrifts flanked either side of the path to the encampment. Sakura strode through them briskly, eagerly seeking warmth. Once it had become clear that the battle on this front would be a long one, Yamato had been sent up to build some nice cabins to take the soldiers through the winter. There were only a few, however, and whoever wasn't lucky enough to claim a spot inside of one was relegated to the tents.

One of her assistants hurried after her. "Wh-where are you going, Haruno-san?" he chattered.

"Somewhere warm!" Sakura yelled back. In her haste she nearly slipped on the icy path, but she kept going. Smoke was meandering in the sky somewhere beyond the snowbank blocking her view, and she was determined to get to its source.

They hurried around the bend and into the camp. With admirable focus, Sakura made a beeline for the nearest cabin. She thrust the door open and tugged her scarf down, greedily gulping in the warm air.

Her assistant had probably scurried off to confirm their arrival. Confident that he could handle it perfectly fine on his own, Sakura granted herself permission to warm up here in the cabin. It was one of the larger ones and seemed to be some sort of lounge area. After all, on a front like this, some times were chaotic and others were dull. This was one of the latter; the poison problem had halted the battles for now. Besides, winter was a terrible time to fight, and the enemy had no cabins.

Sakura sank into a comfortable chair. Her fingers stung from the warmth invading the frozen digits. Still, it was a thousand times better than spending another minute in the cold. There would be time for official business later— right now, she was in paradise.

"Sakura?"

Annoyed, she cracked an eye open to glare at the interruption. A man was standing over her, most of his face obscured by a mask that covered it. Still, she would recognize him anywhere. She shot up in her chair.

"Kakashi-sensei?" Her mouth hung agape in surprise.

"Hardly." Kakashi smiled, his eye curving in a familiar hill. He must have noticed the confusion that crossed her face, because he added, "How long has it been since I taught you, I wonder?"

Sakura gave a weak smile. It was never fun to be reminded of the old days. Of course, she had brought it upon herself by using his old honorific.

Kakashi sighed, looking to the side. When his face wasn't pointed down at her, it was hard to see. "So what brings you here?" he asked.

"I'm surprised you don't know," Sakura responded. "I'm here about the poison problem."

"I figured." Kakashi stepped away from the chair, presumably to give her room to stand up. She hadn't really wanted to, but she obliged and rose to her feet, brushing off the front of her cloak.

"Long trip," she yawned. He nodded in understanding. Now that she was standing, she could see him better. Predictably, he had barely changed at all. Perhaps the crow's feet at the corner of his eye were more pronounced, and his floppy gray hair a little more haggard, but other than that he was exactly as she had remembered. She frowned. "How long have you been here?" she asked.

He shrugged. His face was unreadable. "Two years, maybe?"

Sakura's eyebrows flew to her hairline. "Don't you have a family back home?"

Scratching at his neck, he said, "So do you think you'll be able to work out the poison business?"

His change of subject was abrupt, but Sakura thought that maybe she had been a bit rude, so she didn't press it. "Well, we examined a sample in our lab and the poison itself isn't too new," she answered. "So treatment should be fairly easy."

Kakashi nodded. "Yes, we've been able to manage some of that on our own."

Sakura rubbed sleepily at her eyes. "Yeah. But, we're stumped about the poison chakra. It'll take a lot of study…"

"Well, you should have some time. Fighting usually calms during winter, especially since the Earth nin don't have any of Tenzou's comfy cabins." He patted the wall affectionately.

"Uh-huh." Sakura rubbed her arm. She hadn't been here long and she already felt miserable. The winter was inescapable. She much preferred Konoha, where it didn't snow at all. Frost was practically exotic there. However, there was a different sort of climate in Konoha now and she supposed that here was preferable.

She looked more carefully at Kakashi. He appeared to be lost in thought, staring at the wooden wall.

What was he thinking about? She could only wonder, as his impassive face yielded no answers. Could he be missing his wife and child back home? Sakura had seen the boy before: Takehiko was really the spitting image of his father. She had also seen his wife around the village. Yousei was unquestionably beautiful and carried herself with a regal air, even in a village where she had no de facto power. Yet even when she was walking hand in hand with her silver-haired boy, Sakura could hardly imagine Yousei and Kakashi together. It was unlikely (in her opinion, at least) that Kakashi and his wife could be romantically involved beyond the duty of procreation: they were just too mismatched a pair.

So then maybe he wasn't thinking about his wife at all. Sakura entertained the idea that perhaps his thoughts were more aligned with hers… Reminiscing was something Sakura tried to avoid, but judging by Kakashi's old ritual of visiting the Memorial Stone, it was something he did often. She wondered if somewhere in his ocean of melancholic memories he could have been making room for reflecting on the old team they had shared together… His presence here for so long would explain why he hadn't visited her for the past two years, but they hadn't seen each other before then, either. There had been absolutely no contact between them.

Then again… It wasn't like she had come knocking on his door.

Unpleasant coldness touched her stomach like the wet nose of a growling dog. The last few years had been so damn _lonely. _It was everyone's fault and no one's at all.

"Kakashi…"

He looked up as if woken. "Sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "Got distracted thinking about the road of life, you know how it goes…"

His old excuse was an echo of better times. Sakura was surprised to discover that her eyes had grown wet. "It's really good to see you again," she said quietly. She felt a trickle of snot run down her nose; her face turned red and she rubbed at it with her glove. "Sorry," she said thickly. She was not the type of girl who looked pretty when she cried; with Sakura, it was all snot and angry splotches of red on her cheeks.

Kakashi shook his head. She thought he was going to express discomfort that she was starting to cry and ask her not to, but he just said, "No need to apologize."

She sniffled again, and he took a step towards her before putting his arms around her in a hug. Such a gesture was uncharacteristic of him, but somehow she knew he was thinking the same thing as she: After being dogged by the constant fear that Danzou (in his ever-increasing paranoia) would decide they were too big a threat, it was something else to finally be away from him, and then to be away from him together. It was like their own private rebellion.

No doubt dampening his shirt with snot, Sakura buried her face into his chest. He had always been a comfort to her. This reminded her of the time when she had foolishly tried to intervene in Naruto and Sasuke's fight on the hospital roof. Today she felt the same terrible ache she had been introduced to then.

"I miss when we were all together," she whispered. For years she had kept this desperate pain locked inside her heart, unable to share the burden. But Kakashi had been carrying the same cross as she.

He nodded. "Yes." When he spoke, she could feel his cloth lips moving softly against the top of her head. It was very soothing.

A few tears squeezed out of her eyes. She really hated crying in front of people, but at least she wasn't sobbing. "It's nice being somewhere where Root spies aren't breathing down my neck," she muttered.

She could feel his laughter in his chest as he barked in agreement. Closing her eyes, she tried to absorb as much of his warmth as she could in the last few moments before she pulled away from the hug. His hands fell to his sides, where they slipped into pockets as if they had never been involved in any affectionate activities. Heaving a thick sigh, Sakura smiled bracingly at him.

"I've got work to do, huh?" she said tightly.

He gave her a small smile through his mask. _We'll make it_, he seemed to be telling her, but all he said was, "I'll see you around, Sakura."

"Yeah. See you around, Kakashi."

* * *

Sakura followed Kakashi, suspicion dogging every step.

"Where are we going?" she pestered again. "I have work to be doing, you know."

"That's precisely the point," Kakashi answered cheerfully.

She huffed in disapproval. "You know, I think you're the sole reason my research is taking so long," she complained.

Kakashi didn't have anything to say to that, apparently. He kept walking, coming to the outskirts of camp where a large stump interrupted the path.

"Now what?" Sakura wondered flatly, but Kakashi ignored her. At the stump he turned off the road. With raised eyebrows, Sakura kept pace.

"Now I'm really concerned," she warned him, hopping over a large rock. "You're probably leading me off somewhere to kill me."

"If it would get you to shut up, maybe."

Her face turned red and she threw him her most venomous glare. She didn't utter another word as they continued on their mysterious adventure, winding past trees and stepping over gnarled roots. The sunny sky winked at them from behind bare branches.

Eventually they emerged into a clearing. Sakura heard the faint cry of a gull as they crunched out onto the unmarred snow.

"Wow…" she breathed.

The field dropped off about a hundred yards away, and beyond it stretched the cadet blue northern sea, rolling thunderously in from the horizon. It was a gorgeous view.

Awe had held her in place, but Kakashi moved past her, crouching at a disturbed patch of snow. She watched as his gloved hands pushed the snow into icy dunes on either side of the hole he was digging.

"What are you doing?" Her voice rang clear in this quiet place, where only the methodical crashing of distant waves swayed the stillness.

Kakashi stood up, holding something in his hand. Sakura squinted; the brilliance of the sun on the snow made it difficult to see. He waved his closed fist at her and began trudging through the snow towards the cliff's edge.

Sakura ran to catch up with him. "What have you got there?" she asked. All of her impatience with his enigmatic behavior had evaporated at the sight of this beautiful cliff; now her eyes were alight only with curiosity.

"Watch out," Kakashi cautioned; he had stopped walking and Sakura did too. She looked down and gasped, taking a step back; she had come dangerously close to the edge, and the water lapping against the cliffs was a long way down.

"If you want to look over properly, lie down on your belly," Kakashi advised.

"Look over?" Sakura repeated shakily.

Kakashi turned his head to look at her, concern edging into his eye. "You're afraid of heights…?"

She shook her head. "No, just startled, is all." She smiled reassuringly at him. He blinked and smiled back.

"Good," he said. "We don't have to look down now, if you're not ready. But look out."

She looked past him and her jaw dropped. Left of them, the coast indented, baring itself fully for Sakura's view. Dark, jagged cliffs stood hundreds of feet above the water, scarred with layers of sediment broken only by caves that yawned yards. The craggy rock face extended for miles, curving along the edge of Earth Country until it jutted out again and Sakura could no longer trace its path with her eyes. A few white birds soared across the water, their bodies only pinpricks against the impassive façade of stone.

A cold wind whipped past them, and Kakashi put an arm chastely to her back to hold her in place.

"You're so tiny," he muttered. "You could just get blown away."

She laughed softly, still stunned by the cliffs. "Do you come here often?"

"I wish," Kakashi said ruefully. He guided her back a few steps, and she watched the white peaks of crashing waves disappear from view. "I have even less free time than you do."

Letting go of her, he held up the hand still closed around the unknown object.

"But when I do come up here, I like to throw rocks."

Sakura instinctually stepped out of the way as Kakashi wound his arm back. She heard a faint crackle of chakra before he whipped it forward, releasing a stone. It wheeled through the air, an insignificant speck against the bright blue sky. As it completed its arc it began to fall. Sakura watched its descent until it hit the water with an inaudible splash, disappearing into the murky depths.

Kakashi gave a happy sigh, grinning at Sakura. "It's fun," he said. "You should definitely try it."

A smile that mixed incredulity with glee graced Sakura's features as she regarded Kakashi. Rarely did she see him in such a visibly good mood. He looked like he was really enjoying himself, even though it was just one little stone, and a hopeful hint poked through his dark gray eye.

She'd hate to disappoint him. "All right," she conceded, rolling her eyes with a smile still in place. "Hand me one of those rocks."

"Gladly."

* * *

Kakashi folded a dark shirt, still warm from Sakura's ironing. The sunlight filtered in through the tent walls, managing to block out some of the summer heat but still leaving them sweating. Today they were on laundry duty, which, while tedious, was a welcome reprieve from research and fighting. Respectively, that was all Sakura and Kakashi had been doing for the last few months. Breaks like this when they could spend time together were treasured.

Having never imagined Sakura very well-suited to domestic chores, Kakashi was amused by watching her do something so mundane as passing an iron over clothes. Usually he saw her bent over some document in the poor lighting of the makeshift library on site. Not that he let her stay at it for long when he found her like that: He usually insisted on dragging her away to do something more productive, like throw stones over the bleak black cliffs that cut jaggedly along the northern sea.

Speaking of which… "When do you think we can go stone-throwing next?" he asked pleasantly, depositing a freshly folded shirt onto the pile. "It's been a week since the last time we went."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Is that all you want to do?" she complained, although Kakashi didn't miss the smile teasing her lip.

"No," he said. "We could go cliff-diving instead."

Laughter burst forth like a cannon, but Sakura's signature guffaw played against his ears like music. He leaned forward, pausing in his folding to give her a serious look.

Her mouth fell into an "oh?" of curiosity, her eyes wide and waiting. His gaze was unflinching and opaque, his single visible eye round and mysterious. Drinking in her impatience like wine, he hunched his shoulders together and pushed his head out further, all the while still fixing her with an eerie stare.

"Octopus," he whispered.

She snorted and treated him with another peal of her unflattering laughter. "Creep!" she cried, working to keep her eyes open through her mirth as she continued her ironing. "You looked like a ghost!"

Kakashi straightened up again, looking oddly self-satisfied for a man who had just done something so inane. "What was that?" he goaded around a smirk. "Could you laugh a little louder, please?"

Immediately Sakura's face reddened and she bent her head over her work, her lips clamped tightly shut. She muttered something mutinous; the words "not my fault" were distinguishable.

It was Kakashi's turn to laugh. He tilted his head back, letting it tumble out in a burst of mirth. Sakura glared, stonily disapproving of his mockery.

"At least I don't giggle," she deadpanned.

Kakashi winked. He braced his hands on the table behind him and hopped up onto it, settling into a comfortable position with one leg crossed over the other. "Only when I'm reading porn," he confessed.

Sakura's palm flew to her face. She dragged her hand down slowly, giving Kakashi an exasperated look through her fingers. It made her skin look like it was melting. He tugged down his lower eyelid, exposing the red underneath. "I can look like a zombie too, Sakura."

"Gah!" She threw the next shirt at him. Judging by the smell, it had been under the iron a little too long. "You're the most infuriating person I know."

"Thank you," he said diplomatically. It was lucky she wasn't looking, because he was grinning like a loony, and that would spoil his image. Calm, collected, irreverent— it wouldn't do for Sakura to notice him acting any other way. Including smiling at her like he had never smiled at anyone before.

Not even his own wife.

He sighed, his smile replaced by a weary frown. For a minute they continued in silence, until Sakura frowned at him as she handed him a shirt, concern in her eyes.

"Everything okay?" she ventured.

He smiled tightly, glad his mask disguised the nuances of his discomfort. "Just thinking," he answered honestly, if vaguely.

She bit her lower lip, looking suddenly unsure. He put on his best "I am approachable" face, hoping she would divulge whatever was bothering her. As uncomfortable as he could get with talking about personal things, Sakura seemed to be an exception— that is, he was still uncomfortable, but it was tolerable because he was getting a clue about what went on in Haruno Sakura's head.

Finally, she spoke in a voice that tempered understanding with anxiety. "Were you thinking about Sasuke?"

Taken aback, he shook his head. "No."

"Ah!" Sakura seemed embarrassed. "Sorry, it was just… sometimes when we're talking, I think about the old days…"

Hmm. He certainly hadn't been thinking about the old days at all, not least because he had been appreciating her figure as she pulled the heavy iron back and forth.

"That's okay," he said, sensing she was regretting having brought up Sasuke and seeking to reassure her.

Apparently, it worked. Releasing a frustrated sigh, she vented, "I just feel so betrayed, you know?" By the tone of her voice one could have assumed that they were carrying on a past conversation they had rehashed thousands of times, but the truth was that they hadn't. They never talked about Sasuke. The subject was just as taboo as the way Kakashi had been watching her bend over the ironing board…

… Albeit for different reasons.

A trickle of sweat formed at her temple as she pushed the iron forward again. Kakashi followed its path with hidden interest. As weighty as the subject matter was, he was having a difficult time concentrating. "He never said a word to us. I mean it's not like we were running towards him with open arms, but he knew how much we had searched for him and had wanted him back."

"Maybe he didn't think it was worth it since Naruto had gone?" Kakashi suggested. Sakura's frown deepened, just as he had expected it to. Obviously the thought stung. However, Kakashi thought it was a legitimate possibility. He himself had been prepared to kill Sasuke, never mind try to rescue him. It was doubtful that Sasuke felt any kinship with his former teacher. And Sakura… Well, he had tried to kill her.

Sakura glanced at him and then shook her head, looking back down at the iron. "No, I know," she said. His thoughts must have been reflected on his face. "I bet you're right. He didn't care about any of the rest of us. He didn't even care about Naruto, particularly." She sighed, lifting off the iron and handing him the shirt. He folded it without looking, watching her carefully for any signs of distress. It was one thing when Sakura was venting to him; it was another when she started crying.

That didn't seem likely right now, though. More than anything she just seemed irritated. "It wouldn't be so bad," she continued, "if he weren't sitting in Danzou's pocket now."

"Ah," Kakashi said at once, "but that's not going to last."

Without meaning to, he had said a lot by saying very little. Sakura glanced up at him closely, and it was clear that she was scrutinizing him. "What do you think is going to happen?" she asked carefully.

Out of habit, Kakashi swept the room with a quick gaze. It was unsafe to speak ill of Danzou, but they seemed safe enough here. No one had bothered them for the past hour and a half. His eye edging back to Sakura, he said in a low voice, "Danzou will have Sasuke killed. That's what I think."

Sakura raised her eyebrows. "You think? I thought maybe it would end up the other way around."

Kakashi shook his head. "I've been thinking about it. Sasuke is strong, but Danzou has an entire army at his command," he pointed out. "Sasuke wouldn't stand a chance if Danzou truly wanted to eliminate him."

"Even with EMS?" Sakura asked skeptically.

"Especially with EMS. You have no idea how much the Mangekyou drains a person." He should know. "Sasuke still goes out to fight, right? Danzou controls his schedule, so Danzou knows exactly when he'd be weakest."

Sakura shrugged. "I dunno, I still disagree," she said. "Danzou doesn't have any leverage over Sasuke, because Sasuke doesn't care about anyone."

"You don't think he cares about his clan's honor?"

This made Sakura hesitate. "Well… I suppose…"

"No, actually I agree with what you said before," Kakashi said with a slight shake of the head. "But honestly, I don't think it matters either way."

Sakura threw him another shirt. "Really?"

Catching it, he nodded emphatically. "Yeah. I mean, if Sasuke is killed, Root stays in power. If Danzou is killed, there would be a civil war."

"So you're saying you think Root would win," Sakura inferred.

"I'm saying it doesn't matter either way. Sasuke doesn't have the same popularity that Danzou has mustered, although half the people by now probably believe the lies Danzou spun about his repentance and deep loyalty to Konoha. To stay in control he'd have to use just as much force as Danzou, which I doubt he'd be opposed to."

Sakura's shoulders sank dejectedly. She dragged the iron back, staring forlornly at the pile of clothes next to her; but he doubted it was the laundry that was causing her to look so glum.

"He's really changed, hasn't he?" she said quietly. She laughed at herself a little. It wasn't the fun laugh that Kakashi mocked but secretly loved, either; it was small and bitter. "I mean, that's obvious, but…"

"Hey." She looked up at his gentle tone. Their eyes met. "I know. But everyone is different than they were then. Me, even you. Especially you." He offered a smile. "You've changed just as much as he has, but in far better ways."

It felt as though their gazes were held together by a thread of higher comprehension, invisible but stronger than any physical bond. The intensity was palpable. Goosebumps rose on Kakashi's arm.

"Hatake-san?"

And just as quickly, they vanished. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, breaking his gaze away from Sakura's. "Yes?" he called.

A man stepped into the tent, holding the flap above his head. Tents did not offer the same sort of privacy as cabins. "Letter for you, sir."

Suddenly Sakura wasn't so keen on looking at him. There was only one person who sent Kakashi letters.

"Thank you," Kakashi said distractedly, concerned less with the letter from his wife than with the abrupt distance Sakura had wedged between them. He glanced at her as he broke the seal, but she was focusing intently on the ironing.

The messenger left the tent as quickly as he had come, leaving an unpleasant silence in his wake. Refraining from sighing, Kakashi let his gaze flicker down to the letter. His wife's refined calligraphy flowed across the page in elegant brushstrokes; sometimes her letters felt more like paintings.

As he skimmed the contents, he saw that it was more of the same: updates on his son. Takehiko had apparently heard stories of his father's legendary Raikiri and now bolted out of the house during thunderstorms to try to chase the lightning. Yousei had found him practicing by aiming karate chops at drawings of lightning forks. A small smile twitched at his mouth, but even imaging his son doing something so cute couldn't do much to lift his mood from the gloomy silence.

Sakura was still definitely displeased. She didn't look at him as she stiffly handed him the next shirt, dropping it into his outstretched hand. It draped across his hand and hung limp about his arm; he was too busy watching her to remember to fold it.

The quietness was growing deafening. It rang in his ears, blocking out all other thoughts with its unpleasantness. Oblivious to the shirt that was now probably wrinkling all over again in his hand, he appraised Sakura. Everything about her was tense. Her movements with the iron were jerky and uneven. Terrible for the shirt, but he was more worried about her.

Why, though? Why was she so upset? She had not minded at first when letters from his wife had come. Then she had commented one day that she found them an odd match, and although he had only shrugged at the time, he had whole-heartedly agreed with her. And yet he hadn't admitted it. Why? Everyone knew his marriage was little more than an arrangement. But somehow in that moment, it had seemed that to confirm Sakura's suspicion that he did not have feelings for Yousei would have been subtly inviting another dimension to that conversation…

Oh, he wasn't fooling anybody. He knew _exactly _why she was upset.

"How is your wife doing?" Sakura asked suddenly. She had forced civility into her tone, but it did a poor job of covering the anger that scratched the polite surface.

Kakashi did not answer. Instead, he set the letter down. Then he folded the shirt at a measured pace before placing it on the pile and slipping off of the table.

"Sakura."

She looked up at him. Swimming passionately in her large green eyes was a myriad of emotion that she was obviously struggling to subdue. Anger clashed against affection, hurt against jealousy…

Maybe. It was difficult to tell.

Kakashi took a few steps closer. Sakura's eyes flickered to the discarded letter. "You can't have finished it," she said. "Aren't you even going to read it?"

He kissed her.

Save spontaneity, there was nothing wanton about it. He merely pressed one chaste masked kiss to her soft pink lips, still parted from releasing the tail of her injured question.

When he pulled his head back, he saw that her face was stricken with shock. "You have a wife," she blurted.

Kakashi frowned, running a hand across his masked face. He turned away from her.

"We can't do this," Sakura said. Visibly shaken, she remained frozen; he could feel her stare boring into his masked cheek. He risked a glance into her eyes again and saw the conflict brewing there, in those wide green eyes that tortured this married man so tirelessly. Over time Kakashi had become quite adept at discerning emotions from a person's face, but it would not have taken an expert to figure out what Sakura was battling herself over: She wanted it, but she knew it was wrong.

Kakashi hissed out a frustrated sigh. Closing his eye in a plea for patience, he berated himself. He never should have looked. Losing one of the small wars for resolve raging in his head, he gave in and spoke: His voice was quiet and strained.

"But it's an _arranged_ marriage, Sakura…"

"No," Sakura said firmly. "It doesn't matter. You're still married, you have a wife and a son and we're not going there."

His face was still turned away. "Look at me," she demanded.

He wished she hadn't, but he couldn't refuse her. Grudgingly, as if it pained him greatly to do so (which it did), he let his eye slide beadily back to meet hers.

She tilted her head to the side sadly, which made it all so much worse. "I don't want you to have to lie about me."

Kakashi was having a hard time breathing. How the hell had their conversation turned into this? This was beyond uncomfortable. This was the most frustrating and quietly upsetting position Kakashi had ever found himself in. He felt suffocated.

Wait a minute…

His gaze snapped down to the iron, immobile in Sakura's grip. No wonder he felt like he couldn't breathe; the tent reeked of burning cloth.

Sakura realized it the second after he did. "Oh God!" she exclaimed, lifting the iron: It had left a dark brown mark on the shirt beneath it. She forced a laugh. "Look at what you made me do!"

The noise he emitted was supposed to be some facsimile of a laugh, but whatever mirth he was trying to fake got stuck around the hard lump in his throat and it came out as a grunt.

The rest of the time passed in a sticky silence. As soon as he could, Kakashi formulated some excuse to leave, and he stuffed the letter into his pocket as he went.

* * *

Lowering his head, Kakashi peered at the small grate embedded in the village door. It was clamped shut. This was certainly a new addition to the entrance—What exactly was he supposed to do with it?

His question was answered when the grate slid open with a shriek of metal that made him wince. He blinked. A mouth had appeared behind the slanted, wafer-thin pieces of metal.

"State your name and business."

Kakashi sighed. This was convenient. "Hatake Kakashi. On leave from the northern front."

There was muffled shuffling, and another grate Kakashi hadn't noticed squeaked open. It was lower down on the door, obscured by shadow in the twilight.

"Pass your papers in," the voice commanded. It was harsh and bristled with authority. Kakashi obediently removed his papers from the pouch on his vest, sending a little _pop _of his chakra into them so that the correct information would reveal itself. It was a new precaution of Danzou's that they needed to verify their travel papers with chakra.

He slipped the papers into the slot, waiting impatiently as the man behind the grate sifted through them. After a few grunts and the crisp sounds of moving paper, the man said, "Registration number?"

"Can't you read?" Kakashi snapped. That was the first damn thing on there.

The mouth behind the grate curled into an ugly sneer, baring its yellowed teeth. Kakashi was tempted to move his head back, but he did not want to imply that he found this faceless man intimidating.

"I'm not the one whose trustworthiness is being questioned," the man said unpleasantly.

Kakashi wondered if he was talking about something greater than the travel papers. Refusing to take the bait, though, he took a moment to compose himself before speaking.

"Double oh nine seven two zero," Kakashi said mechanically.

The man's grin jeered even more grotesquely at Kakashi. "A little more uniform, please."

Kakashi closed his eyes. He needed to calm down. This was just another low-level crony deluded by the idea of power: it was easier to give him what he wanted. "Zero zero nine seven two zero."

The interrogation continued with Kakashi being asked to repeat every item printed on his travel papers, along with a few extra. Wondering if it was really necessary to confirm that he had completed 197 D-Rank missions in his lifetime, he nevertheless kept his mouth shut. His questioner had already hinted that Kakashi was a person of suspicion.

Finally there was nothing left to ask him about, and his papers were stamped with the seal of approval. Kakashi sidled through the slim crack opened in the great village doors. He was exhausted.

His feet led him towards his house, and he felt a little leap of excitement. He was going to see his son.

The thought really hit him then. _He was going to see his son._ Summoning a last burst of energy, he broke into a jog, hurrying towards his house.

Yousei must have gotten his letter; even though it was evening, she was sitting by the upstairs window. When she noticed him, her face lit up in a smile. She waved before disappearing from view. By the time he came to a breathless halt in front of the house, she was pushing open the door.

He hugged her with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. _Perhaps because you're imagining her with pink hair? _He shook the taunt away, breaking away from the hug and smiling at Yousei.

"Where's Takechan?" he asked, peeking over her shoulder. She laughed, stepping out of his way to let him inside. He strode in quickly, looking around.

"Takehiko!" Yousei called, closing the door as she stepped inside. "Takehiko, your daddy's here!"

Kakashi looked around wildly, trying to locate his son— and then he saw him. Little Takehiko was standing uncertainly on the third stair from the bottom, clutching the banister. Kakashi's face broke into a wide grin. He walked over to the staircase.

Yousei came quickly behind him. "Takechan," she said happily, "this is your daddy."

Kakashi crouched in front of his son. He was in awe of how much he resembled him. His dark eyes complemented his silver hair, white in the lamplight.

The boy shrank back a little. Recognizing Takehiko's trepidation, Kakashi tugged his mask down. He felt Yousei's arm on his back. Swelling with pride at the sight of his son, Kakashi raised his hand to touch his cheek.

Takehiko slapped him.

Kakashi's smile vanished to be replaced by a hard frown. Yousei immediately lifted the boy from the stairs, scolding him. "Take, how _dare _you! You don't treat your father that way!"

Straightening up with a sigh, Kakashi waved dismissively at her. "Don't," he said. "Let's just go to bed."

Yousei frowned at him with concern, but he ignored her. Still in his full gear, he trudged up the stairs, hoping she wouldn't try to console him over his less than warm reception.

What had he been expecting? He considered it dully as he sat on the edge of his bed. The mattress creaked with the weight. He propped a leg up onto his lap, unclasping the straps of his sandal.

Certainly not _that_… but in retrospect, had he really thought that his son would recognize him? It had been a few years since he had left the small babe in his mother's arms. No wonder the little boy had been frightened; a mysterious man had come into his house and tried to touch him.

Kakashi snorted. It sounded pretty awful when he put it like that. Letting the other sandal drop, Kakashi rolled back onto the bed. Any life that had been pumped into him at the prospect of meeting his son again had been promptly drained, leaving him feeling even more exhausted than before. Not bothering to remove any more of his sweaty and dirty clothes, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep.


	3. A Better Man

A Better Man

* * *

"_That was the first time I ever saw my brother. But I knew him. And I knew I would disobey the party. Perhaps it was the tie of love between us, but I doubt it … Nor was it admiration for a man better than me. I did admire him, but I didn't think he was a better man. Besides, I've executed better men than me with a small pistol."_

_- Yevgraf Zhivago (Alec Guinness)

* * *

_

Kakashi paused. Something wasn't right. Holding still, he listened carefully to the forest around him. With only his natural eye he could not see anything out of the ordinary, but he could feel something sinister on the outskirts of his perception.

He silently cursed; he shouldn't have been foolish enough to assume that just because tomorrow was the fifth anniversary of Danzou's rise to power he'd be able to get away from the spies. He had hoped that they would be occupied with more important things, but apparently there was always a spy to spare for surveillance on suspicious persons.

He sighed and stood up. It had been tempting, that was all— Winter was coming with promise of food shortages, and there were so many edible plants in the forests surrounding Konoha that Kakashi had been unable to resist pilfering a few. But this was strictly forbidden by Danzou's rationing laws; they were at a time of war, and no one man was important enough to steal berries for himself when they were theoretically being evenly distributed among the people.

That didn't seem too likely, as there had been plenty of plants sitting idly in the wood. Perhaps Kakashi _was _being selfish, but he hated the forlorn look on Takehiko's face when his mother had to tell him again that there would be no fruit today. He had also hoped, in a small part of his heart, that he could better endear himself to his estranged son by bringing him such an exquisite treat.

Such hopes had been dashed by the stranger hiding in the shadows. As he heard the person begin to emerge from behind a bush, he started running through excuses in his head, trying to find a viable one. Stupidly, the only thing he could think of was to say "I got lost on the road of life", but that wouldn't fly here.

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it when he recognized the spy. Sai stepped out of the shadows, smiling. Kakashi was unsure what to make of that, so he just watched him with raised eyebrows. He and Sai had never exactly been friends. It had certainly been years since they had last spoken with each other. As far as he knew, Sai was just another lackey of Danzou by now… Sure, he had seemed to be changing, but that was years ago. Power went to people's heads.

He remained very guarded as Sai approached him. The Root spy was dressed in a black trenchcoat that Kakashi recognized as denoting high status in the organization. It gave him liberty to do unpleasant things to people like Kakashi who were caught breaking the rules.

Sai nodded at him. "Kakashi-sensei."

Kakashi schooled his look of surprise. He had been expecting a clinical reprimand and swift punishment, or at the very least "Hatake-san, you need to report to the Hokage." But a personal greeting… Kakashi narrowed his eyes. Perhaps he was trying to fool him.

"Root-san," Kakashi responded, inclining his head in a polite bow.

Sai's smile went away. "You do not need to call me by such a formal name," he said blankly. "We used to be teammates. When people have a prior relationship, they may refer to each other more informally."

Kakashi shifted his weight to the other foot, slipping a hand into his pocket. His fingers brushed across the red berries that they sheltered. "That's true."

Briefly, Sai's eyes swept the ground at Kakashi's feet. Kakashi resisted the urge to look with him, but he knew that the fact that half of the bush was covered in berries and the other wasn't made it painfully obvious what he had been doing.

Sai met Kakashi's eye again. "I am not worried about the berries," he said, "although they only reinforce the message I have to convey to you."

Kakashi frowned. "Message?"

With a slight shake of the head, Sai took a step closer. Kakashi stood his ground, very wary of this "message".

"Not here," Sai said in a low voice. "Your house would be better."

Narrowing his eyes, Kakashi cocked his head at Sai. "Near my family you mean."

Sai blinked. He was so impossible to read. "I do not intend your family harm," he said in what might have been a reassuring voice if his face weren't so empty. "But this is not a good place to discuss my… message."

Kakashi exhaled sharply through his nostrils. How was he supposed to weigh the sincerity of a man who showed no real emotion? Still, despite Sai's affiliations, he had known him once. Call it human naivety, but he had a hard time believing that Sai would hurt his family.

Within an hour he was back at home and heard the knock on his door. Sai could not follow him immediately home from the wood without arousing suspicion; Kakashi had been given enough time to warn Yousei of a very important visitor from the government before the knock came, and against his better judgment he allowed Sai into his home.

Yousei was sitting in the living room with Takehiko on her lap. The boy fidgeted unhappily; Yousei had forced him into a red bowtie to look nice for their "special guest". Kakashi walked back over by them and faced Sai from beside his wife's chair. All three members of Kakashi's family were frowning at their visitor.

Sai entered the house and closed the door behind him, waiting to hear the click of the lock before approaching the family. Yousei shrank back as Kakashi expanded his chest, unconsciously making himself look bigger in the face of a potential threat.

"I have come to warn you," Sai said simply. He was looking straight at Kakashi, his face impassive as always. "You are in danger here."

Out of the corner of his eye, Kakashi could tell that Yousei was looking up at him, but he kept his gaze locked with Sai's. "Why?" he demanded coldly.

Sai's eyes strayed to a painting on their wall. Kakashi remembered vaguely that Sai had liked to paint.

"You don't know?" Sai said faintly. "I think it's obvious. Danzou grows worried that you seek to oppose him."

Yousei sucked in a gasp. Kakashi frowned. "I follow all of my orders," he said carefully.

Sai shook his head. "That doesn't matter. Danzou suspects that you are not fully committed to him."

Takehiko yawned, but Yousei promptly shushed him. Kakashi glanced down at them, noticing the fearful look in Yousei's eyes. Although she was a civilian, that didn't mean she was ignorant to war; her own country had been in political turmoil for decades. She had also been living in Konoha now for a few years, and Kakashi had come to understand that things had only worsened here in that time. No doubt Yousei understood exactly what was going on.

Kakashi exhaled thoughtfully. "Is my family in danger?"

"Danzou worries that you are indoctrinating your son."

"No!" Yousei exclaimed, aghast. She frowned at Sai. "Kakashi is hardly home enough to talk to his son, let alone brainwash him."

That stung a bit. Kakashi couldn't argue with her, but he'd rather she hadn't brought it up. Oh, well… He sighed. "Will they be in less danger if I leave again? Is that what you're saying?"

Sai brought his owl-eyed gaze back to settle on Kakashi's dark gray eye. "I think that will help," Sai answered. "I cannot say for certain, but I don't believe you're doing your family any good by staying here."

Yousei frowned as if she disagreed with that, but the resignation in her eyes proved that she _did _realize the weight behind Sai's words. He wouldn't be risking himself to come here and personally warn them if the situation were not grave. Kakashi patted her on the shoulder before addressing Sai again.

"Shall I return to the front, then?" he asked wearily. He had been under the impression that Danzou liked him better where he could see him, but apparently he was wrong.

Sai nodded. Kakashi returned it stiffly. "Thank you," he said, his voice gruff.

Without another word, Sai swept out of the house.

Takehiko leapt out of his mother's lap and ran up to the window. He stood on his tiptoes, struggling to peek through and watch the strange man leave. Apparently lacking the energy to stop him, Yousei slumped back into her chair. Kakashi quickly crossed the room and scooped up Takehiko, lifting him onto his shoulders.

"Time for you to go to bed, buddy," he said, his voice strained from the sudden weight.

"Don't wanna sleep…" Takehiko mumbled, pressing his face into Kakashi's hair.

"Takehiko," Kakashi warned sternly. "If you don't promise to go to bed right now, you will have to wear that bowtie all night."

"… Bedtime, Daddy!" The boy tugged on a spike of Kakashi's hair as if it were reins. Kakashi smiled and took his son upstairs, helping him change into his pajamas.

As he was tucking the boy in, he remembered something. "Hey, I've got a present for you," he whispered.

"Present!"

Kakashi hastily put a finger to the boy's lips. "Shh," he cooed. "You have to keep it a secret from Mommy, understand?"

Takehiko nodded enthusiastically. Smiling mysteriously, Kakashi took the berries out of his pocket. Some were a little squashed, but there had been so many that enough survived intact. "Hold out your hand." The boy obeyed, and Kakashi deposited the red berries into his palm. Overcome with excitement, Takehiko stuffed them all into his mouth.

Kakashi chuckled, ruffling his son's hair with the hand that wasn't stained by berry juice. "Next time you should save them," he said with a wink. Takehiko nodded. Kakashi leaned forward, kissing him gently on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Takechan," he said softly. The little boy hummed and let his eyelids fall closed.

How easily he fell asleep… If only Kakashi could manage that. He sighed, rising from the side of the bed and leaving the room. He left the door open a crack so that a thin ray of golden light could fall onto the carpet, just as Takehiko liked it.

He went downstairs again to pour himself a drink. Yousei was waiting for him, wiping the already pristine kitchen table with a rag.

They went about their business in silence for a few long minutes. Kakashi sat down at the table with a glass of water. Something stronger would have been nice, but legal alcohol was hard to come by and Kakashi didn't consider the risk of obtaining moonshine worthwhile. He swirled the floating ice cubes with his finger, thinking about going back to the cold front.

"So when are you leaving?" Yousei's question was sudden and sharp. Kakashi looked up at her.

"Tomorrow," he sighed.

She pursed her lips tightly. Kakashi tilted his head to the side, face creasing in a frown.

"You know I don't have any choice," he said.

With a short sigh, she stopped wiping the table. Instead she stood frowning down at it, arms akimbo, the ratty cloth still clutched in her long fingers. "I know," she said irritably. "But I hardly think it's good for the family."

He didn't like to see her so upset; it made him feel guilty. Then again, he often felt guilty when he thought of her. "I can write letters to Takehiko specifically," he offered.

"It's not just Takehiko I'm worried about," she snapped. Kakashi raised an eyebrow at her.

She had fretted when he had informed her of their visitor, as if she had something to fear from the government. Did she worry that she wasn't performing her duty as the wife of the Copy Ninja? That she hadn't produced enough children? She had been hinting at it for the past two weeks, if Kakashi had deduced correctly.

"Takehiko is more than enough for you to handle," Kakashi said. He had hoped it would comfort her, but her black eyes flashed up at him in anger.

"I am capable of raising more than one child, Kakashi," she retorted. "Or do you think so little of me that you—"

Kakashi held up his palms. "Yousei," he interrupted. "Please, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything… I just meant that you don't have to feel obligated to have more children."

"That's easy for you to say," Yousei said, shaking her head at him. "You don't deal with the people here. They say things."

"And what do they say about you? That you don't have enough children?" Incredulity laced his tone, which only seemed to infuriate her more.

"That's exactly what they're thinking!" she said. "They wonder what's wrong with me, that I can't do the one job they brought me here for."

Kakashi frowned. "You can be more than just a mother—"

"_Just _a mother?" she hissed. "So you think that I don't have to confine myself to being _merely _a mother? You're such a—"

"Yousei, that's not what I said!" He drummed his fingers along the table in agitation. Heavily, he sighed, "You can do other things, too. Danzou wanted someone to carry on my bloodline and that's what he got," he finished, more harshly than he had intended.

Yousei's bottom lip trembled. She turned her face away from him. Two open cabinet doors framed her profile. "Why can't you let me do the one job I need to do?" she demanded softly.

Kakashi sighed again, running a hand through his mane of spikes. Belatedly he realized that it was the berry-stained hand, but he really couldn't care less. "You _are _doing it, though. You're a good mother to Takehiko. Unless…" Uncertainty cradled the question as it edged out of his mouth: "Do you _want _more children?"

Yousei faced him again, inscrutable. "I want to do my job," she said stubbornly.

Giving a tight sigh, Kakashi downed the rest of his water.

* * *

Sakura scratched out an annotation, causing splotches of ink to dampen the scroll. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, but wiping them away would only ruin the parchment further.

Setting her brush down, she leaned back in her chair with a yawn. Her arms trembled as she stretched them above her head, and joints popped as she tucked her head into the crook of each elbow and pulled. She had been bent over this table for hours with only the musty books to keep her company. The only measure of time was the small clock she had laid on the table.

The Earth ninja were much cleverer than their reputation suggested. Over the years they had done well to keep their expertise with poison a secret. Sakura had been here nearly a year and still hadn't worked out the nuances of the enemy's technique. It didn't help that since the camp's lead medic had been killed, Sakura was now also in charge of medical care at the base.

She was very lonely. Every now and then she still went to the cliffs, sitting as close to the edge as she would dare and watching the waves. When it was sunny, the ocean glittered as sunlight danced across the water, but Sakura preferred when the overcast skies blurred into the horizon. Those were the days that made her think of Kakashi; he had liked to throw stones when it was raining.

The crunch of leaves outside stirred her from her daydreams.

She shook her head softly. There was no time for that when she had work to do. Picking up her brush again, she dipped it in the ink and held it hovering over her notes, ready to adjust any miscalculations. Her eyes resumed their careful scan of the papers spread out in front of her.

But she was distracted again by the sound of approaching footsteps. Pretending she didn't notice, she kept her head bent over her work. In her periphery vision she could see two navy blue legs come to a stop in front of the table. Without realizing it she had frozen, her body tense as she waited for the stranger to announce himself.

She didn't have long to wait.

"Sakura."

Her eyes widened and flickered up. Kakashi stood in front of her, shoulders slumped in his usual slouch and hands slipped lazily into his pockets. One coal black eye looked down at her with a quiet intensity she could not place. She thought he might have looked a little sad.

"Kakashi," she traded, careful to keep her voice guarded. Their last meeting hadn't exactly ended amicably. "How was your visit?"

He took his time answering. Finally he sighed, gaze shifting to the table. "Fine."

Something about his placid demeanor goaded her into going further. "And your wife?"

She had been expecting a flicker of annoyance or even guilt, but… nothing. He just kept looking down at the table and eventually replied, "She is fine."

Sakura's brow furrowed. He wasn't acting as if nothing had ever transpired between them, which was what she would have expected. Instead he seemed morose. It grated on her.

"What about your son?" she asked.

At this, Kakashi chuckled. He brought a hand up to rub lightly at his masked cheek. "He slapped me."

Sakura pulled her head back in surprise, her features tugged into a frown. "Your son _slapped_ you?" she repeated incredulously.

Kakashi nodded, letting his hand return to its pocketed sanctuary. "Yep." He cocked his head to the side. His eye still held that deep, quiet quality that Sakura was having such a hard time placing. "What about you? How have you been?"

Sakura shrugged. "Good," she lied.

"I see."

Silence stretched between them. The ticking of the clock that Sakura had set on the table became particularly pronounced. Kakashi glanced at it before slanting his eye back to Sakura. His head was still partially turned away; it felt almost as if he were sizing her up, but still with such reserve in his eye.

Sakura tilted her head. Her lips parted in concentration as she watched his eye carefully. It was a dark and stormy gray, like the sky above the cliffs during the rain.

"Have you made friends here?" Kakashi's voice was light and casually curious, but his expression remained shrewdly stony. Sakura felt like she was in more of a chess match than a conversation.

"It's been fine here," she answered, but the edge to her voice was a little too sharp.

Kakashi's hand left his pocket again, coming to rest on the table. He swept it softly across, his fingertips running along the edge of her strewn papers. She watched the progression of his hands as they ghosted across the wood, contemplating the scrolls laid out before her.

"Working hard, hm?" he observed.

"Yes." Her voice rang in the silence that was building. A palpable tension was thick in the air. Anxious, she threw a glance at the clock: The second hand was ticking towards the seven. She registered for the first time that the light coming in through the tent had dimmed to the point of darkness, and the "library" was illuminated only by the candle flickering on her table.

"It's late," she commented.

The shadows shifted on his face as he nodded. His hand was now static on the table.

"Do you still go to the cliffs?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Sometimes," she offered vaguely. "It's not quite the…"

Same.

She didn't say it but she knew that he could have finished the sentence easily.

"No," he said softly. "It's not."

His other hand left his pocket with a swift rustling of fabric and joined the other on the table. Sakura watched him splay his gloved fingers on the wood. Bracing himself on his hands, he leaned forward. She watched his chin move as he spoke in a low voice.

"It hasn't been the same at all."

Staccato heartbeats tapped wildly against Sakura's chest. She looked up at him, her mouth set in a straight line. His face was much closer now. In the candlelight, his gray eye burned.

A painful jab of want needled through her, jerking her heart into her stomach. Nervously her eyes darted around his face, searching. His gaze was steady.

"Sakura…"

There was longing in his voice. Longing tempered barely by restraint.

Sakura swallowed.

Kakashi's eye jumped to her throat. Outside, it had started to rain. It pattered lightly on the ground and against the draping walls of the tent, its calm rhythm contradicting the unbalanced tension undulating in the space between them.

In a sudden and rough movement, Kakashi wrenched his mask from his face. Before Sakura had time to absorb the sight, she felt his hand on her chin and he was kissing her.

She hadn't realized how much she had wanted it until she felt his lips pleading against hers. Her hand dropped the brush with a clatter as she brought it up to cup his cheek, digging her fingertips against his cheekbone. He didn't seem to mind; his own fingers stroked at her chin in a strong caress. His tongue slid out of his mouth, running along the seam of her lips: With a small gasp, she let him in.

Her head spun as their tongues met heatedly, tangling in a sudden surge of heat. Rising slightly off the chair, she gripped the back of his neck. Her fingers wound tightly into the coarse hairs there, guiding his head closer. They traded pants for breath. He nipped hungrily at the side of her mouth, his other hand sliding up her thigh to rest at her hip.

The table bumped against her waist uncomfortably, blocking Kakashi from moving closer to her. In a heady burst of spontaneity, she kicked back the chair and climbed up onto the table. Vaguely she registered the sound of an inkwell rolling off the table, but she didn't think to check the documents for damage— none of that mattered right now. The only important thing was Kakashi, who was so overwhelmingly _there _after being unavailable for so long.

Kneeling on the wood was even more uncomfortable than standing against it, though, so she started scooting forward. Kakashi was forced to lean backwards again to accommodate her. Even as he pulled her forward and maneuvered her into a sitting position at the edge of the table, he continued to ply her mouth with desperate kisses. She returned them eagerly, unable to get enough of him.

She was forced to spread her legs to make room for him now. His warm body filled the space, and she couldn't help but release a small whine as she felt the bulge in the front of his pants press against her covered core. One of her legs hooked around his lower back, pulling him in closer. Kakashi groaned into the kiss.

His hands began to roam her body. The left came to a stop on her back to secure her in place while the right found her breast. She moaned against his mouth, pushing out her chest to better fill his hand. His thumb rubbed the aching peak of a nipple through her clothing as his mouth moved away from hers, trailing kisses along her jaw before pausing to suck sharply on her neck.

Sakura arched against him, whispering hasty pleas for more. There was no doubt that his fingers could do wonderful things to her breasts, but it was impossible to ignore his erection pressing angrily against her pulsing core. Later there would be time to be thorough, but for now, Sakura had waited long enough. She had never before felt sensations so strong, so… forbidden.

But this was not the time to think of a woman whose name Sakura could not even remember. There was only Kakashi's body, so hard and hot against her own, and as he agitatedly fumbled with her belt buckle, she pushed her skirt out of the way and guided his hand.

* * *

Commander Ainai sat regally against the back wall of the tent. He eyed Sakura with the sort of remote interest that characterized all of Konoha's top-ranking officers. As a mere tool of Danzou he could show no hint of personality, but he was also in charge of this important camp in the war with Earth, so Sakura's presentation was vitally relevant and held his attention more than most things could. That wasn't saying much, though, and his unwavering gaze set Sakura on edge as she gave him a respectful bow.

"Sir," she addressed the floor. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a dismissive flick of his hand, signaling that she could bring her head up. She did so, taking in his dark brown hair and heavy face. His mouth was permanently set in a wide, mournful frown.

"Begin," he said simply.

Resisting the urge to shiver at his chilling demeanor, she cleared her throat.

"My research has been successfully concluded," she said, her voice ringing through the tent. Despite her trepidation at facing an audience with Commander Ainai, she had no shortage of confidence that she had done well and did not hesitate to speak. "My assistants and I understand the workings of the enemy's poison chakra and are eager to share the details with you and the rest of the army."

Ainai leaned forward with interest. His pristine fingernails stood out to Sakura as he gripped the arm of his chair: Root left no detail of perfection go unnoticed, it seemed.

"And what have you discovered?" he asked.

Sakura took several scrolls out of her pouch. With a flourish she unrolled them onto the tent floor, revealing diagrams and charts. Ainai peered at them, his small black eyes roving their contents hungrily.

"The poison itself is, as you know, very simple," Sakura said, pointing to a short list of ingredients on one of the scrolls. "But the Earth ninja have devised a very complex technique that incorporates the toxins into their chakra. The greatest puzzle was not only how they do this, but how they do it without hurting themselves, but we have figured out both issues…"

Stepping delicately over one scroll, she crouched beside another and pointed at an illustration of a man's silhouette decorated by different colored arrows. "The procedure for adapting the poison into the chakra system takes a far more thorough understanding of the nature of chakra than our intelligence had estimated Earth capable of," she explained. "Autopsies on our own shinobi who have fallen to this foreign technique have revealed that they carry in their bodies essences of the poison's natural chakra."

An image of Naruto's grinning face split through her mind with a painful jab. She shook her head softly, trying to rid herself of the picture and focus on her presentation.

Ainai took advantage of her pause to ask, "Natural chakra? If the poison was not a living thing, how can it have natural chakra?"

"It's the chakra of the plant the poison came from," Sakura amended. "Judging by the autopsies of _Earth _shinobi, they underwent some sort of ritual or justu that brought the natural chakra of the poison's plant into their systems. On its own that chakra was not poisonous— _but_, these shinobi _also _must have learned a technique that could extract the poison from within their own chakra and convert it into a usable toxin."

Ainai leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtfully at Sakura. "How is that possible?" he asked softly.

"That's where the research has come in handy," Sakura responded. "The documents that our spies managed to steal from Earth archives have demonstrated that Earth shinobi have been trying to perfect this technique for decades. In fact, drawing lines between old intelligence reports suggests that the Tsuchikage even tried to recruit Pain of the Akatsuki to help them understand the natural chakra conversions and adaptations." She pointed to the final scroll in the row. "Thanks to medical study and document analysis, we have been able to come up with a rudimentary outline for the secret technique of converting the chakra of the poisonous plants."

An actual smile crept onto Ainai's face as he gave Sakura a curt nod. "Excellent," he said. "Will Intel be able to develop countermeasures to the jutsu, then?"

"Definitely."

"Very well then." Ainai's stony features were arranged into a calculated look of pleasure; no doubt he had meticulously studied how to make people feel appreciated for their efforts. "Your work has been very important to the war effort, Haruno-san. It has honored Konoha and our great Hokage, Danzou-sama."

Sakura plastered a smile onto her face through the formalities. She was so sick of how every other sentence from their commanders found a way to praise Danzou. Pretty soon she would be ending phrases with compliments to the sour old fool out of habit.

Sakura made to pick up her scrolls again, but Ainai shook his head at her. "You may leave them with us, Haruno-san," he instructed. "Once you get your affairs into order, you will be allowed to return to our great home city."

She blanched.

"Sir?" Her pitch was unusually high, but she worked to keep the deference into her tone so as not to appear insolent. "I'm afraid I do not understand…"

"Your work in the research department has been of great value to us," Ainai said, patiently and mechanically. "But it is time that you return to Konoha where your medical skills can be of greatest use to our great leader Danzou-sama."

He dismissed her with a nod of his head, apparently deciding that was the end of the conversation. Head spinning, Sakura bowed her head before hastily backing out of the tent.

Her shoulders sagged with relief when she had passed through the tent slit and into the fresh air of the camp, but her stomach still felt as if it had been flipped over and twisted in the wrong direction. Go back to Konoha? That was the _last _thing she wanted.

She looked out desperately at the camp, with its scattered cabins and tents. This place felt much more real to her now than Konoha did, as she hadn't visited home since being assigned here. Besides, the Konoha she knew was a thing of the past. The mail was slow and heavily monitored, so those at camp relied on hearsay to paint a picture of modern Konoha. Soldiers and workers who came from there were forced to put on the same charade as everyone else when the officers were in earshot, but whispers still circulated about the situation back home. Danzou's grip on the everyday lives of citizens grew ever tighter. Rations were poor, while rumors of prosperity in the upper echelons of power flitted through the cracks of Root's iron control.

Beyond that, there were frequent executions. No one was allowed to disobey Danzou or show any hint of insubordination. Complaints were skewed as treason by Danzou's paranoid perspective, and anyone who dared to defy him was killed. The executions were often done in public, and no one was spared— not even civilians.

Kakashi had told Sakura of one such civilian execution. Officially the man had been jeopardizing the war effort by stealing secret antidotes and poisons to mail to Earth hospitals, but Kakashi knew for a fact that the man had been nicking cold medicine for his son.

It was hard to believe that Danzou had Konoha's best interests at heart as Sakura was so often reminded that he did. She supposed that he still genuinely believed he was serving Konoha, but Sakura could not agree that an absolutist reign was the best option for her beloved home.

As horrible as things seemed to be in the city, it had been easier to deal with because Sakura was detached from it all. The prospect of going back made her physically ill.

Water splashed onto her face, jarring her out of her thoughts. She jumped back, cursing profusely. When she had wiped the water from her eyes, she peered through wet lashes to see that Kakashi had landed in front of her, conveniently in the middle of a large puddle.

Immediately her mood lifted. "Kakashi!" Her voice was scolding but she could not contain a small smile.

He peered down her wet front with bemusement. "Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Didn't see the puddle there…"

Sakura stuck out her tongue at him. "I don't believe you!"

Kakashi sighed, rolling his eye in a very put-upon way. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm even wetter than you are."

Indeed, landing in the puddle had left him drenched. A grin spread across Sakura's face. She stepped around the puddle and began walking, flashing a mischievous smile over her shoulder. "Yes. It does."

Delight flickered in Kakashi's eye and he fell into step with her. Squelching in the mud together, they walked through the camp at a leisurely pace.

"How did your meeting go?" Kakashi inquired.

Sakura's smile faded. "Well," she sighed. "That is to say, Ainai was pleased about the research. You know, the usual garbage about _serving our great leader_." She rolled her eyes.

Kakashi surreptitiously swept either side of their path with his dark gray eye, frowning at Sakura through his mask. "Careful," he said quietly.

He sounded like a broken record, but he was right. Sakura and Kakashi needed to be even more careful than most about what they said for two reasons. First, they were still considered persons of suspicion thanks to their "dubious" involvement with the previous Hokage; any hint of discontent could earn them an appointment with the gallows.

Second, Kakashi was cheating on his wife.

They nodded politely at a passing officer as they continued their walk. Sakura shivered as a breeze wound past them; teeth chattering, she pressed closer to Kakashi.

He seemed to tense a little with the public contact. Sighing tightly, he murmured, "Well, that's good that the meeting went well. You deserve recognition for the work you did. Especially considering the fact that I made it my job to distract you as often as possible."

She smiled weakly at his praise and the joke, but she couldn't ignore the unpleasantness from before gnawing at her stomach. "Kakashi…"

He looked down at her, his eye fully open with curiosity. "Hm?"

"Commander Ainai…"

Her voice trailed off as her gaze wandered around the camp. All of these ninja would soon be going through training based off of Sakura's research, yet she wouldn't be here to witness the fruits of her labors. Of course, that wasn't the main reason she was upset about leaving.

"Yes?" Kakashi prompted. Usually he let Sakura take her time, but he seemed genuinely impatient for what she had to say.

"Oh. Um…" Self-consciously, she pushed a strand of damp hair behind her ear, but there was no point in stalling any longer. "He's sending me home."

Kakashi's pale gray eyebrow flew up his forehead. "He's _what_?"

"Sending me home," Sakura repeated, irritated. "He says my work here is done and they need me back in Konoha."

"That's absurd," Kakashi said at once. She watched him frown unhappily at the camp in front of him, clearly not seeing it. "Konoha has plenty of capable medics, but you're the only one here."

"I'm not the _only _one…" Her interjection was only half-hearted, and Kakashi kept going.

"But you're the best. Plus, this front is one of the most important." He exhaled sharply through his nose. Sakura had rarely seen him so agitated. "Besides, why would they take you away from here when you are still needed to help develop a counter technique to the enemy's? Obviously your expertise would be most useful in doing that…" He shook his head savagely, splashing harshly into a puddle with his next step. "Brainless," he muttered.

It was Sakura's turn to check over their shoulders for any eavesdroppers. "Careful," she hissed, echoing his warning from before. "We can talk about this somewhere else."

He remained silent as they continued through the camp. Eventually they diverged from the main path, turning instead at a familiar stump and walking through unmarked grass. Puddles seeped everywhere, but Kakashi plowed through them obliviously. Sakura chanced a glance at him and saw that he appeared deep in thought.

They did not speak again until they could hear the sound of waves lapping against the cliffs. Just the sight of the drop off elicited a sigh of relief from Sakura; here, they were safe to speak and act freely.

She sat on a wet rock protruding from the muddy grass. Kakashi stood across from her at enough of a distance that she didn't have to crane her neck to look at him. His hands were slipped into his pockets and his brow was furrowed.

"You can't leave," he said. He no longer sounded angry, but through his wet mask she could see the outline of an unhappy frown. "It wouldn't be good for anyone."

Sakura sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing them with her fingers. "What can we do, though?" she moaned softly. "We can't contradict orders."

He said nothing. Sakura peeked at him through her fingers, watching him stare above her head unseeingly.

At length, he grunted and finally spoke. "It's because it's you."

"Me?" Sakura's eyes were wide with denial.

Kakashi nodded. "Danzou wants you back in Konoha. He doesn't like how long you've been out here, especially with Naruto still at large."

Her heart dipped at the name they never spoke. Gulping once, she protested, "But they sent you back, right? I thought you said Sai told you to get out of there, that Danzou didn't want you there."

He shrugged. "He's changed his mind?" he suggested. "I have a longer history of unwavering duty to Konoha, anyway. Kept my head down. You were much closer to Tsunade."

Another name they didn't say. "So you think it's more than just being done with my work here?" Desperation trickled hopefully through her voice, pleading with him to answer in the negative.

"You're obviously not," he countered. "There's plenty here for you to do. You are the best medic here, and this is one of the most important fronts. Thanks to your research we're sure to make a huge breakthrough soon in the enemy lines."

He seemed so confident, but Sakura was still doubtful. She hesitated, her teeth playing with her bottom lip. Taking notice, Kakashi watched her expectantly.

She breathed slowly through her nose. "Are you sure you're not just saying this because _you _want me to stay?"

Kakashi cocked his head to the side, looking vaguely displeased. "No," he said, his voice sharp and irritable. "I mean it."

A prickly silence rose between them, putting up a thorny wall. For all of his barriers, Kakashi was extremely sensitive about their affair. It didn't take much to rankle him where that was concerned. However, his frown of annoyance creased into one of apprehension. Closing his eye, he ran a hand through his ragged spikes of gray.

"I'm just worried," he sighed. "Whatever his motives, Sai warned me to get out of Konoha for a reason. I don't like the idea of you going back."

The gentle concern in his voice made her heart float softly back into place. Everything was easier when he was here. Although he never explicitly said it, she knew the affection he had for her and the feelings he kept buried beneath secrecy and lust. The words were translated through his touches even though they were never spoken.

All of that would be lost if she went back to Konoha. Her fingers fell from her face and she ran them along the stone in an anxious pattern. "Can we do anything? I don't want to go, either."

He looked at her, head still tilted but this time in thought. She thought she saw the nameless affection lurking beneath the cloud of worry in his eye. "I could put in a good word for you," he offered seriously.

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Can you?"

"Sure," he said, but she wondered if he was. "I could talk to a few people at the hospital and some of the other higher-ups. I do have _some _influence here, no matter how much Danzou tries to strangle it."

The dark edge to his tone hinted at the multiple levels working in his mind. If he played it right, on the surface he could come off as only a concerned soldier of the front knowledgeable enough to see the merit in Sakura's stay. A layer below was his ulterior motive of keeping Sakura there because she was his lover, but Sakura suspected that underneath even that was a need to assert some sort of power in this situation. After all of his hard work as a Konoha shinobi, Danzou had shunted him to the side, and Sakura thought it plausible that this could be a private way for Kakashi to stick it to the old man.

Which was an incredibly dangerous plan. "Are you sure you want to be involved?" Sakura pressed. "It might be less conspicuous if you—"

"I'm sure," he affirmed. "I don't think it should be a problem."

"But we should err on the side of caution!" Sakura argued. "I don't want you getting a black dot on your record for my sake!"

Kakashi chuckled, which only made Sakura fume. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

He quickly schooled his features. "Nothing," he said soberly. Seeing that her ire was still burning, he shook his head softly. "Please don't worry about it," he said. "I know what I'm doing."

Her frown twitched as he walked over to her. Bending gracefully, he placed a light kiss on the crown of her head. "We'll be fine," he whispered. His thumb ran across her cheek like wind through the reeds as he pulled away.


	4. Farewell, the Pleasures of the Flesh

Farewell, the Pleasures of the Flesh

* * *

"_Farewell, the pleasures of the flesh. What I don't understand is how we're going to stay alive this winter."_

_- Alexander Gromeko (Ralph Richardson)_

_

* * *

_

A few fires burned, casting an unreliable light on the campgrounds. The shadows played against the draping canvases of tents and the sturdy walls of cabins. A bubble of laughter every now interrupted the quiet, only to fade away as quickly as it came and leave the camp just a hush above silence.

Kakashi did not usually skulk about camp in the evening, but tonight he had a specific aim in mind. He leaned casually against a tree, watching what little there was to watch from his point off the path.

One of his hands came out of his pockets holding a tattered box of cigarettes. He had traded a very dear set of cards for them, and he didn't even smoke. His target, on the other hand, had a taste for the illegal white sticks. There was no good reason for Danzou to outlaw them; most people thought it was just another way to flaunt his power over them. Kakashi knew a little more than that, though. He had it on good authority that undercover Root agents ran much of the black market now. Instead of using this opportunity to catch criminals, however, Root instead saw this as a good way to raise money, so profits from selling the smuggled goods reached the top.

Oh, corruption. Tugging down his mask, Kakashi shook a cigarette out of the box and lit it, reluctantly putting it to his mouth. He took a drag and coughed, but thankfully he shook that off rather quickly and reclined against the tree, pretending that he did this all the time.

He patiently waited six and a half minutes for the usual whistle to penetrate the evening lull. Smiling around the cigarette, he listened as his target came closer.

The jangling of keys precluded the entrance of a man into Kakashi's field of view. He was short and of medium build, a black jacket marking his status as a Root officer.

Kakashi blew out a particularly conspicuous stream of smoke, practically goading the man into stopping and looking at him. The man did pause, eyeing Kakashi with a toothy sneer. His silhouette was cast into strong contrast by the orange light of a fire behind him. It was too early in the year for the buzz of insects, so the only background noise was the dull murmur of hushed voices.

The man approached Kakashi with wet footsteps through the grass, stopping a few feet away from him. "See you've got some contraband there, Hatake. Cigarettes are illegal on base."

"Would you like one, officer?" Kakashi offered politely.

A raspy laugh cracked out of the man's throat and he took one of the offered papery sticks, wedging it between his lips. He jutted his head out expectantly; Kakashi clicked the metal lighter to the cigarette tip. Satisfied, the officer leaned back, taking a long drag.

They smoked in silence for a few minutes.

"Good brand," the officer finally said. "But what is an upstanding citizen such as yourself doing with them?" His light sarcasm hinted that he was well aware of the suspicion surrounding Kakashi. However, he had taken the bait of accepting Kakashi's illegal cigarettes, so Kakashi wasn't too worried.

He shrugged. "Would you like a drink, too?"

"Certainly," answered the officer. Booze was another one of this man's well-known vices. Out of all of the officers he was one of the most obviously corrupt, but he was also second-in-command to Ainai. What's more, he was the one who reviewed Sakura's reports and wrote up his own for Danzou. If Kakashi could convince this man that Sakura should stay, she would stay.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" questioned the officer as Kakashi unearthed a small bottle from his hip pouch. "It's not every day that Hatake Kakashi plies his commanding officer with gifts."

He accepted the proffered bottle, unscrewing the cap roughly and taking a greedy gulp. With a satisfied sigh he smacked his lips, facing Kakashi with a poorly illuminated leer.

Kakashi glanced casually over his shoulder before returning his gaze to the officer. "I have a petition to make to you," he said.

"Let's hear it," the officer grunted. He took another swig but continued to eye Kakashi beadily over the bottle.

Pleased with his reception thus far, Kakashi decided it would be best not to beat around the bush. "Commander Ainai plans on sending home a very important asset to the camp," he said tersely. "I'd like you to convince him not to."

"Oh?" A rude cloud of cigarette smoke hit Kakashi squarely in the face, but he didn't flinch. "Who is this… _asset_?"

"Haruno Sakura."

Kakashi tried to ignore the way the officer's eyes lit up with lascivious delight. "Oh, _her_," he said knowingly. "Yes, she's certainly got _assets _all right."

Jaw tight, Kakashi waited patiently through the ensuing guffaw.

When the ugly laugh had died down with a final raspy cackle, the officer's lips lifted in an even wider smirk. "Why do you want her here, eh?"

"I believe it is a mistake for the commander to remove her from the camp," Kakashi said evenly, his strict professionalism contrasting the officer's lewd drawl. "Her work here with the poisons is not done; she would be the most effective choice for leading the effort to develop a counter jutsu." Remembering that he was supposed to be a smoker as well, he took a quick puff of his own cigarette. "It would be a huge waste of time and resources to send her back to Konoha and then bring in new people who would have to be taught things Sakura already knows inside and out."

As was common with people in power, the officer remained quiet for a long time after Kakashi made his case, holding the silence above his head. "I don't know…" he finally sighed, with the tone of one clearly milking his upper hand for all it was worth. "There are people in Konoha who have been studying her reports…"

"None of them is as smart as Sakura," Kakashi cut in. "Or at least not on this subject. There's also her medical aid to be considered. Why take away one of Konoha's most competent medics from one of our most important fronts? So far she has served the camp exceptionally well, and she would only continue to do so if we kept her here. There are plenty of medics back in Konoha, but there is only one of high caliber here, and that's Sakura."

He did not like the knowing look in the officer's eyes. "You care an awful lot for being just another soldier." His voice dripped out of his mouth like sticky sap, laced with innuendo. "I get the feeling it's not her contributions to the camp you're worried about…"

Kakashi fished around in his pocket for a few bills. It was a last resort, but it seemed the little push the officer needed. The officer furtively accepted the crumpled money.

"… But you make a good point either way. I'll see to it that the girl stays." He downed the last of the bottle and dropped it unceremoniously on the ground. It landed in a puddle, sending droplets of muddy water over Kakashi's feet and ankles.

"Watch yourself, Hatake," the officer said unpleasantly. "Thanks for the cigarette." He tossed said contraband into a puddle, leaving it fizzling behind him as he stepped back onto the path and picked up his whistling tune.

Once he was gone, Kakashi spit out his own cigarette and pulled his mask back up his face to disguise his grin.

Sakura was staying. He couldn't believe his luck— convincing the corrupt officer had been so _easy_. Even the final, practically obligatory warning had only put a small dent in his elation. Squashing the cigarette with the edge of his sandal, he stepped happily over the puddle and returned to the main path.

He had been worried that it wouldn't work out. So worried. The prospect of Sakura leaving camp had shaken him. Life without her would be… empty. The way he saw it, he had sacrificed his integrity to love her. For her to leave would render that useless, and he would be left with only pain to compound his guilt instead of love to blunt it.

None of that mattered now, though. His precarious way of life was no longer under threat, and with that security in mind he made his way to Sakura's cabin on the outskirts of the camp.

* * *

Sakura lay quietly on her cot, watching the stars through her window. Droplets of the recently melted snow ran down the pane, distorting the view where they trickled. Sakura and her assistants were lucky to have their own cabin; it was considered necessary due to the delicate work they did inside with dissections and examinations. Most people (like Kakashi) had to use tents even in the chilly early spring.

Her conversation with Kakashi earlier today brought forth thoughts of Konoha. While her eyes watched the stars, her mind swam with memories that glowed golden around the edges. Tsunade, Naruto, Sasuke, Sai… All people she had lost in one way or another.

Her mentor's death had been a tragedy in and of itself. In the frenzy of the war immediately after Pain's invasion, there was no break, no appropriate time for Sakura to mourn. All that had been given to her were lonely nights in a medical tent where she would try not to spill tears on her work.

No one knew where Naruto was now. Although Danzou was no doubt keeping close tabs on him, his whereabouts still remained a mystery. Sakura smirked in spite of herself; Danzou was probably regretting letting the mob take matters into their own hands. He had surely meant to sully Naruto's name so, but he had most likely wanted to keep Naruto locked underground until the time was right to use him. Now, at least, Naruto was at large, but while this meant he was probably safe it also left Sakura wondering where on earth he could be. She hated the uncertainty.

There was much more certainty concerning Sasuke, of course, but it wasn't any more pleasant. His betrayal still burned. Right now he was probably eating a fancy dinner with Danzou somewhere, simpering like the most sophisticated sycophant with daggers in his eyes. The mere thought of their power play exhausted her. Kakashi was right; Danzou or Sasuke, the situation in Konoha would not change. The ultimate winner of their struggle was a matter of indifference.

The biggest question mark was Sai. Why had he helped Kakashi? Did he still feel loyalty to his old team? Unless he was setting Kakashi up for something worse than being in Konoha…

Sakura rolled over, pressing her face into her pillow with a low whine. Growing up, she had never suspected that Konoha would come to this. Atrocities had always been committed by the _other _villages, but to the young Sakura, Konoha was immaculate in its prosperity and peace. Now her understanding was much different.

_Tap tap._

Alarmed, Sakura dragged her eyes up from the pillow, still using it to hide most of her face as she looked wide-eyed at the window. She was even more startled to see Kakashi there; he never so blatantly sought her out.

He motioned for her to join him outside. She did so in a hurry, slipping out of bed and pulling on her green vest. Trying to stay quiet so as not to awake her cabin mates, she tiptoed out the door and shut it quietly behind her. Kakashi was waiting.

"What is it?" she hissed. It was dark and they were not supposed to be out; all the lingering fires had been doused as people returned to their tents and cabins.

Kakashi's eye revealed a smile. "You can stay," he announced.

Green eyes shone with surprise. "You already— _how_?"

"Bought off an officer," Kakashi said quietly, grin still evident in his voice. "Second in command to Ainai. He'll fudge up your reports, I assume, so it will be made clear you're needed here."

He let out a small "oof" as she attacked him with a hug. Her arms squeezed him as she buried her face in his chest. The faint scent of cigarette smoke lingered in his clothes, but she didn't ask; she was too overcome with relief.

"Oh, Kakashi!" Her voice was muffled against his shirt. "Thank you thank you thank you…"

She heard his soft chuckle as he put his arms around her, kissing her forehead. He always did that; she thought it was because he knew she used to be self-conscious about it.

Closing her eyes, she turned her head sideways so that her ear was pressed against his chest. The steady beating of his heart flooded her with warmth.

"I love you," she whispered.

He sighed, and for a moment cold panic flitted through her, but then he tipped up her chin. His masked lips ghosted across hers with a faint scent of ash. "I love you, too," he said.

Sakura took his mask down with her teeth and kissed him deeply. His strong hand wound its way through her roseate locks, and soft sounds of need mingled in their mouths as they kissed.

If they had been listening, they would have heard the whistling resume.

* * *

It was a beautiful day.

Buttercups dotted the expanse of grass, poking out from between the blades with a friendly wink. With the grass they rustled gently in the airy spring breeze. The sound played harmoniously with the distant crashing of waves against the cliff.

A soft feminine sigh caressed the shell of his ear. It tugged his lips into a smile, and he turned his maskless face to the woman at his side. Sakura was curled up against him, one of her arms flung out over his chest. Kakashi gave her forehead a light kiss, squeezing her closer with the arm around her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open, looking up at him. First she wore a lazy smile, but then it was replaced by an accusing frown upon noticing his smirk.

"What?" she demanded, brow arched.

"You've got grass on your face," he explained. He brought his other arm over and swiped at the offending blade with a fingertip. "There we go."

She tipped her head up and met his mouth in another kiss. He returned it eagerly, and what began as a soft reunion of their lips quickly manifested into something much more passionate. It had been months and her kiss still intoxicated him.

Probably because he could taste their secret on her lips.

Clandestine meetings such as this were frequent. When they managed to escape from their duties at the camp, they stole a few hours at the cliff. Her cabin had other occupants and the library tent had been deemed too risky, so once the snow had melted they held their rendezvous here.

They weren't casting stones anymore.

Kakashi rolled her onto her back, bracing himself over her with his right hand firmly set on the grass beside her shoulder. His other hand worked its way impatiently at the zipper on her red shirt. He dragged it down with a smirk, letting her shirt fall to the sides of her torso like parted waves. Her unbound breasts were revealed, and as she had lost her shorts earlier that afternoon, she was left almost completely exposed with only her black skirt barely covering her crotch.

Kakashi too was half-naked. His dark boxers hung low on his hips and his skin-tight black undershirt had been pushed up his torso, leaving the sheer material bunched roughly above his abdomen. Sakura's hand found the muscle and traced it with wonder; Kakashi shuddered beneath her light touch. It was at the same time overwhelming and painfully inadequate. He growled into their kiss, and he felt Sakura's lips stretch gleefully; it was her turn to smirk. She dragged her fingertips down to the hem of his boxers, playing with the elastic edge.

"Kakashi."

Said man froze. That was not Sakura's voice. Dread pierced him through to the core, and he craned his neck so fast it cracked. He tried to angle his body so that it shielded Sakura, who had clamped her legs together and let her hands fly to cover her chest.

A squat dog sat in a bed of buttercups. His permanent frown was shaped around a scroll. Kakashi sighed, some of the tension leaving his body; he had been so afraid that it had been someone from the camp…

"Pakkun, what are you doing here?" Despite relief that they had not been discovered, he was not pleased to see his summon. Pakkun didn't see anything wrong with having a mistress (or two, as he once suggested), which was precisely the problem. Somehow it did not ease Kakashi's guilt to have his dog express solidarity.

Pakkun spat out the scroll.

"Letter from your wife."

His gruff voice was dull with disinterest. Without giving his master another look, he disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

He left a stony silence in his wake. Anger bubbled in Kakashi's chest, because anger was much easier an emotion than guilt. With a grunt of frustration he pushed himself off Sakura, tugging up his boxers and reaching for the scroll that Pakkun had dropped. He could hear Sakura sit up behind him, the _zhp_ of her zipper renting a gritty hole in the tension.

Kakashi tried to school his shaking hands. He picked up the scroll, wiping off some of the slobber on his shorts. Yousei's letters were rare and uneventful. Mail at this advanced point in the war was unreliable, and although she had promised to write often, he had only received one letter since coming to the front again. Takehiko had been the main topic of discussion: She had talked about how he seemed to be turning into a walking encyclopedia on bugs and frogs and all sorts of critters, as she had put it.

He ripped at the seal on the scroll with a rough anger. It sprang open, trailing onto his lap. Even though it was impractical and she could never write enough to fill it, she liked to use the long parchment she had taken with her from Ame.

He swallowed hard.

Desperate to avoid the letter, he made the mistake of turning to Sakura. She was glaring stiffly to the side, but when she felt his gaze on hers she snapped her head to face him.

"Read it," she said roughly. Her eyes were wet, and he noticed that she was also shaking.

Usually he liked to drown his guilt in her touch, but it wasn't so easy when the reminder of their sin was sprawled onto Kakashi's lap in pretty calligraphy.

Still trembling, he turned back to the letter. The date caught his attention. It had been sent months ago: Such a delay in delivery was not unusual given the tight control of communications in and out of Konoha. In spite of himself he started to read it, noticing with surprise that it was extremely short.

_Dear Kakashi,_

_ I'm pregnant._

He dropped the letter.

Something constricted tightly in his chest. He stared down in disbelief at the four words and the blank parchment that stretched on after them.

"What is it?" Sakura demanded. "Is it Konoha?" In the last letter Yousei had also briefly discussed the worsening situation under Danzou alongside her report on their son. Kakashi wished with an overwhelming futility that he could say yes and relate Danzou's atrocities for two hours, but the real news was far more devastating.

Gulping, he turned back to Sakura and shook his head. He struggled to find the words, but the shock had killed his voice and he could only stare soundlessly, his mouth slack with shock.

Sakura growled angrily at his silence and snatched the scroll from him. He did not protest as she held it at arm's length, as if bringing it any closer to her face would hurt her.

As much as he wanted to look away, he couldn't. He watched with dread as Sakura read the damning words. At first her brow was furrowed, but he could see the moment it dawned on her. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened in horror. She let out a barely audible scream as she threw the letter across the field. They both watched it roll to a halt, the blank paper tangled innocently among the flowers.

Kakashi blinked, and in his shock he inadvertently opened the Sharingan. He was treated to a nauseating sense of vertigo as the borrowed eye clashed with his natural one. Swinging his gaze away from the scroll, he caught sight of Sakura. His Sharingan could detect the turmoil coursing through her.

He shut the eye. It was disorienting to have her churning chakra replaced by her smooth skin. The change made her seem much less upset in comparison, but he knew it was just a trick played by the shift in perception.

She met his eye for a hard moment. The pain there made his stomach coil. Sakura looked away and cast her gaze once more on the discarded letter strewn across the grass. "I get it if you have to go," she spat. It was obvious that she had been trying to keep her voice empty and nonchalant, but a harsh edge still lined her words.

"I…" His voice trailed off helplessly. Distracted, he looked at the scroll again. He couldn't read the words from here but they were already branded into his mind's eye: Four words that slapped him in the head and punched him in the gut, screaming at him with an inescapable sense of duty.

"But…"

"No!" Sakura shouted. Their eyes snapped to each other again, and he saw with another stab that Sakura was no longer trying to hide her distress. Her face was frighteningly pale and her voice was slightly hysterical as she continued, "I want to be selfish but these are fucking _kids _we're talking about!"

Two hot tears rolled down her cheeks. He covered his face with a shaking hand.

He hated this.

There was no question that he loved Sakura. Lust was part of it, but he had grown attached to her even before their affair had started. It wasn't the same sort of attachment he felt to Yousei, either. He and Yousei had been forced together, and while they had conceived two children now — _two, _the thought still made his mind reel — he had never deluded himself into thinking that he was in love with her. Whether or not she felt the same way was something they had never discussed…

He jumped suddenly to his feet as if burned and began to gather his clothes from the grass. Sakura did not move as he pulled them on. She sat motionlessly in the flowers at his feet, her face turned away.

"I'm sorry," he grunted. The pain in his voice was piercingly clear, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Sakura flinch. "I am so damn sorry."

"Just go."

Snapping his mask into place above his nose, Kakashi did.

* * *

"Halt!"

Kakashi sent a wave of chakra skidding into his foot. It rooted him to the branch he had been about to leap from. His eye quickly scanned the surrounding forest. He saw nobody, but that commanding voice had to come from somewhere.

Instantly on guard, he dipped his hand to his leg holster, finger looping through the ring of a kunai. He spun it into his hand and shifted into a defensive position.

He sensed them the second before he saw them: Three men appeared on a branch slightly above his. He almost released his kunai but stayed his hand when he registered their appearances. Porcelain animal masks smiled at him from above black trenchcoats.

The central figure held out a gloved hand. "Papers."

Kakashi's brow furrowed. What were three high-ranking Root officers doing, accosting him on his journey home? He was on official leave and had the papers to prove it. Perhaps this was a new safety precaution introduced since the last time Kakashi had gone home, but it was nevertheless suspicious that the duty of checking one man's travel papers fell to three officers distinguished enough to sport their own coats.

Cautious, Kakashi unclasped a pouch on his vest and removed a scroll. Breaking the seal with a _pop _of his chakra for identity verification, he held it up for the Root member. Being slightly below the men made him very uncomfortable.

The man took the proffered scroll and snapped it open, holding it at arm's length and letting the parchment unravel in the air. The sun backlit the paper so that Kakashi could see the neat calligraphy backwards through the page. Two eye slits fixed the paper with a sculpted stare.

Kakashi blinked. Either it was his imagination, or the man's mask had slid out of focus for a second. Attributing the thought to fatigue, he shook it away and waited for the man to finish reading.

Apparently the scroll was enthralling, because the man kept staring. Kakashi began to grow impatient. He really didn't have time for this bureaucracy— he was physically exhausted and emotionally spent after recent events, and he felt a pressing urge to get home. As much as he dreaded facing his wife, she was pregnant and he had a duty to her. It was this sense of duty that pulled him along the road back to Konoha against the anguish of his heart.

Daring to express his impatience, Kakashi said, "Sir… I really need to get back home."

The mask turned down to him. Its painted whiskers made him think painfully of Naruto: the mask was a fox. The details seemed fuzzy, though, as if a thin mist had risen to obscure them.

"Oh?" it asked, voice faint with false interest.

"Yes…" Kakashi said uncomfortably. He was starting to feel a little light-headed, which was unusual for him but could have been because he hadn't been eating much in his haste to get as far away from camp as possible. "I've got a son and wife back home, and she's expecting."

"Yes," said the voice snappishly. "We know."

It said something else, but bizarrely, it was beginning to fade in and out like a bad radio. Kakashi couldn't make out the words.

"Pardon?" he said, but his own voice felt distant, as if someone else were borrowing it. In fact, his whole body felt heavy and weak, growing separate from him…

What happened next happened fast. The two silent Root members lunged at Kakashi, shoving him into the tree trunk. Pine needles rained down. Kakashi tried to fight them off but found his limbs sluggish and unresponsive. The kunai he had been gripping fell from his slackened fingers.

_How…?_ His slowing mind scrambled to connect the pieces. They had just been standing there…

Crinkling paper caught his attention; it was becoming hard to keep his eye open, but he saw the officer roll the travel paper back into its tight coil.

The answer stung his consciousness.

"The seal," he muttered. Commander Ainai himself had sealed the scroll at camp; he must have set it up for a jutsu to activate when it was broken, and it could only be broken by Kakashi's chakra… Which meant that they had _planned_ to capture Kakashi. Root had.

The masked man made a small hop onto Kakashi's branch, joining the other two assailants. He stopped in front of them, leaning forward so that his mask pressed against Kakashi's ear. The porcelain was cool to the touch; he shivered.

"We know," the voice repeated in a whisper. "We also know that you left behind a mistress on base— Haruno Sakura?"

His heart went cold with fear. They knew about Sakura… She was in danger.

_She was in danger._

This one thought seared through his head as he tried to fight off his captors, but it was no use. The jutsu from the broken seal had sapped his strength, leaving his body limp.

His vision swam. Fantasy began to mix with reality as he felt his mind detaching from the body pinned to the tree… The fox mask pressed closer to his ear; he wildly imagined the Kyuubi spirit grinning wickedly as it peered past his eardrum into his mind…

"We know what you two were doing together," the voice said, distorted along with the forest around him. Kakashi was numb; this was a dream. He felt intoxicated by its absurdity.

Unconsciousness began to steal the last vestiges of his mind, pulling him under a cloak of mute darkness. The last thing he heard of the corporeal world was the fox hissing into his ear.

_"We know about the rebellion."_


	5. To Refuse My Sugar

To Refuse My Sugar

* * *

"_Who are you to refuse my sugar? Who are you to refuse me anything?"_

_- Victor Komarovsky (Rod Steiger)_

_

* * *

_

Winter winds blew harshly against the walls of the cabin, rattling the windows. Sakura pulled the covers closer, shivering underneath the layers of blankets. Over the years she had spent in this cabin, she had accumulated quite the blanket collection, but it still wasn't enough to weather these winters.

She curled into as tight a ball as she could, shuddering. There were no snoozing cabinmates tonight to keep her company with their snores; all of her assistants had gone to Konoha to escape the winter.

As tempting as balmy Fire Country was, Sakura couldn't bring herself to go there even if it meant avoiding this bitter cold. Anything was better than Konoha— and if she were to cave and return there, she had a feeling she would not come back.

There weren't any other people here, period. The war had moved farther west across the Earth Country border; the soldiers had migrated, but Sakura's medical team had been left here with all of their equipment. Any cabins left behind were used solely for medical purposes, but at this time of year the war was slow and the most Sakura saw were flu patients.

It was terribly lonely.

A loud rap on the door speared through the blizzard and the emptiness of the cabin. Sakura yelped, twisting in the sheets to look over her shoulder at the door. It trembled with the force of the continued pounding.

Alert, she sent out tendrils of her chakra to investigate the newcomer. She could visualize her chakra creeping towards the door, snaking past the cracks of wood to evaluate her visitor's status. The signal was… weak. Very weak. It ebbed feebly towards her, falling short of her by yards. Whoever her visitor was, the person was in terrible shape, even…

Injured.

The unexpected arrival clicked into place— Blizzard or not, she was a medic. Without further hesitation Sakura leapt out of bed and sped across the cabin, stopping nimbly in front of the door and lifting the deadbolt. She stepped out of the way to let the heavy door swing open.

An icy gust thundered past her, chilling her to the marrow, but that was not what caused her to freeze. Shock held her to the spot as she gaped at the visitor.

He was wrapped in a traveling cloak lacquered with ice and snow. Hunched in the doorway, he strongly favored one side and was clutching his stomach. The tips of his hair were frozen, and little icicles even clung to a few drooping, silver spikes.

"Kakashi!" Her exclamation was whipped away by the howling gale, but she nevertheless saw recognition flicker in his dull gray eye as his name left her lips. He made as if to move forward but stumbled; Sakura caught him before he could hit the wooden floor.

She ushered him inside, slamming her body against the door to shut it while still supporting him. He was so cold he could have been frozen solid. Sending chakra surging to her limbs she lifted him, carrying him bridal-style to her own bed. She left him there for only as long as it took to drag one of the unoccupied mattresses from an assistant's bunk in front of the fireplace. Lighting the hearth with a fire jutsu, she quickly transported Kakashi in front of it, laying him carefully down on the mattress.

His body was in a terrible state. She peeled away layers of frosted clothing, revealing frostbite and other, more disturbing injuries. His leg was broken, but that was not the least of it. With growing horror she unearthed more of them hiding beneath sticky cloth. Puncture wounds, crudely stitched gashes, and bruises…

She gulped. There was no question: He had been tortured.

"Oh, Kakashi…" His eyes were closed. He had no head wound, so it was safe to hope that the warmth from the fire had lulled him into unconsciousness, because this was going to hurt.

Her mind reeled as she set it to the task of healing him. As she tended to his wounds, she had to work to keep her mind focused and her hands steady. Glowing green palms verified the existence of a person she otherwise could not believe she was seeing.

It had been almost two years, and it wasn't every day she met a dead man.

Unfortunately, Kakashi had not been unconscious but sleeping. He awoke with a hiss as she healed him, focusing first on salvaging his frostbitten exterior. She tried to soothe him with coos and shushes, but when she moved onto his broken leg he let out a sharp shout of pain.

His anguish needled against her ear and drilled into her heart, causing her hands to shake. As hard at it was to accept that he was here in front of her, alive and breathing, his screams made his presence viscerally real and impossible to deny. Her heart trembled. Unable to bear his groans of pain, she brought a hand up to his forehead. Finding pain receptors was tricky business, but only his frostbite had been of pressing concern so she could spare some concentration and chakra to ease his agony.

Closing her eyes, she sent her healing energy into his head with utmost care and caution. His pain receptors were not difficult to locate, bursting as they were with activity; she found them shrieking in his brain, raw and abused.

_The torture…_

A lesser medic could have caused him permanent brain damage, but Sakura successfully dulled his pain. Sweat coated his skin in a fine sheen as she pulled away, moving her hands to scan other parts of his body.

She'd have to bandage up his leg, but none of his other wounds seemed very recent. Later she would patch them up and take a closer look, but for now she needed to keep her resources directed at maintaining a healthy body temperature for him.

Sakura sighed. Her eyebrows turning up on the insides, she smoothed back the damp flop of hair that shielded Kakashi's eyes. They were opened in feverish slits as he panted; Sakura had removed his sticky mask, leaving him free to breathe.

"What's happened to you, Kakashi?" she wondered softly.

He said nothing, but his hand twitched. Sakura grabbed it at once and held it in her own, stroking his trembling fingers.

* * *

For a few days, Kakashi knew only pain and nightmares.

* * *

A warm hand guided him slowly into awareness. His eyelids felt lighter than they had, so he slowly cracked open his right eye.

He was in a small room lined with wooden walls. A… cabin. A log cabin. Probably built by Tenzou himself, the only person he knew who built cabins. He could just picture Tenzou as a lumberjack, hacking at a tree trunk with an axe and stopping to sip some tea…

A dry laugh crackled out of his throat. Left of him, someone gasped. He turned to see a pink-haired young woman reaching for a pitcher of water.

"That's a nice change," he heard her mutter. "Mostly you've just been screaming."

She wedged the tip of the pitcher between his parted lips, tilting it to let water flow into his mouth. He drank weakly.

The warm hand returned to grip his limp fingers. He smiled up at the familiar face looming above his.

"Sakura…" His voice was no longer dry but still barely above a whisper. At the sound of her name, her face broke into a wide grin and she squeezed his hand.

"I have to admit I wasn't expecting you," she confided.

His smile only widened. "Sakura…" he repeated fondly, his eyelashes fluttering with the temptation to close.

One of her pink eyebrows quirked up. "Maybe you're not as lucid as I thought," she said shrewdly. "I could put you to sleep again…?"

"No, no…" He had only just woken up, and she looked pretty. Much nicer than the dream he'd been having.

She laughed. "All right, if you can stay awake."

Silence fell, draping across their shoulders and weighing them down. Kakashi disapproved; he wanted her to keep talking, to keep him from falling asleep again. He moved his thumb encouragingly against her palm. "How have you been…?"

Her eyebrows came together in disbelief. "How have _I_ been?" she sputtered; "Kakashi— you're the one who came knocking on my door like a ghost!"

"Oh… I just wanted to be polite."

Sakura shook her head. "Well, I've been fine. I mean… fine." It was the type of "fine" that got the question out of the way. "But you… Kakashi, what _happened_?"

That was not a question he was keen on answering. However, he was the one who had disappeared, never be heard from again: He owed her an explanation.

"Well…" He sighed, shifting a little on the bed. Might as well get comfortable. "Are we alone…?"

Sakura nodded ruefully. "Very."

Kakashi took a few minutes to gather his thoughts. Sakura waited, still holding his hand.

"I was kidnapped on my way back to Konoha," he began slowly. His gaze was fixed on a point in the vicinity of Sakura's shoulder; he couldn't bring himself to look at her, not when "going back to Konoha" meant "leaving you for my pregnant wife".

If she caught that, it didn't show in her voice. The concern was too thick. "By whom?"

He weighed the question. "What have you been told?"

Even though strictly speaking, he wasn't looking at her, he could see out of the corner of his eye the way she teased her lip with her teeth. "That you were killed," she answered quietly. "Captured by the enemy. And… that when they were interrogating you, you… spilled Konoha secrets."

Oh, that was _rich_.

"Bastards," he murmured.

"I didn't believe them," Sakura said, interlocking two of their fingers. "I figured that last part was just propaganda, but that you really had been killed… Is it true, at least, that it was Iwa who got you?"

He rolled his foggy stare over to her. "No."

"No? Then _who_?"

"… Root."

Sakura gasped indignantly. "What the _hell_!" Her unoccupied hand had flown to cover her mouth in horror. "They— they— those _bastards_!"

Kakashi smiled grimly. "I'm glad you agree," he said vaguely. He was so terribly exhausted, but it would be pretty unfair to go to sleep and leave her with that sort of cliffhanger.

Sakura's face was still stricken with consternation. "So… _they _did this to you?"

"Yes." His own voice was starting to shake. He had spent so long hating the twisted injustice of it all that by now he was almost jaded, but seeing Sakura quiver with fury brought his own feelings into sharp relief. "They wanted to know about… Naruto."

"Naruto?"

"Apparently, they thought that Naruto was forming a rebellion…" He paused to compose himself. "They held me in one of Orochimaru's old outposts in Oto. They tried to get information out of me, but I didn't know anything about it. Finally I managed to escape…" He wasn't up to giving her the details.

"Oh, Kakashi!" Her chair scraped across the wooden floor as she moved closer to him, gripping his hand more tightly. "Oh my God, this is so awful…"

She stroked his face soothingly, yet her face was anything but calm. "How could they do this," she muttered, her voice low and thick with hurt. "I knew they were awful, but this is…"

Despicable. Inexcusable. Appalling. Shameful. Wicked. Kakashi had finished that sentence a thousand different ways, strapped to a table in the depths of a torture chamber. It was too painful to think about— he cast around in his mind for something else, anything to distract them from this.

"How have you been?" he asked again, his voice quiet. "The war, Konoha…" Anything.

Sakura did not answer right away; he could see in her face that she was trying to reign in her anger. It was never something she had been good at, but she managed to swallow it enough to answer, "Not good."

His eyebrows twitched in worry. Distractedly she amended, "Well, I mean, no— that is, uh, Konoha hasn't been good. Not good at all."

"Not good…?"

She shook her head. "Danzou has gotten worse," she said bitterly. "He's throwing people in jail left and right. Plus he's sapping more and more funds for the war— they're really strapped back home. The war is doing well but it's terrible in Konoha. So I've heard," she finished. "I've never actually been back there."

Kakashi's heart crawled down into the pit of his stomach, settling there with an unpleasant lurch. He had hoped against hope that maybe, even though he was going through hell, Konoha was getting better. He realized now that had been foolish.

"You still haven't told me how you've been…" Technically she'd said she was "fine", but they both knew that didn't count.

Sakura didn't answer, though. Instead he watched her face fall a little, and her eyes flickered to the side in a way that could only mean one thing: She was hiding something.

"… What," he said flatly.

"Just a minute," she mumbled. There was a soft rustling sound as her fingers swept away from his, taking the warmth with them. Sakura left his view; he could hear her pulling open a wooden drawer and shuffling around for something. After a minute she returned and sat down beside him again.

She was holding a letter.

"This is for you," she said unsteadily. Kakashi raised a hand feebly to accept the unrolled scroll, bringing it to his face. His hand shook and his vision was blurry; the calligraphy was no more than an inky mess to his tired eye.

"I can't read it…"

He heard Sakura swallow hard, and he realized belatedly who must have written the letter. It was too late to protest, though, as Sakura had already lifted the letter from his hand. She held it up so that Kakashi could not see her face, the long parchment pooling into her lap.

" 'Dear Kakashi,' " she began.

_I tried to wait for you, but I have heard nothing of you for months. I can only assume you were unable to leave the front._

_ The birth went successfully. Takehiko was overjoyed to welcome his new baby sister into the family. Her name is Kaede, after your mother._

_ Unfortunately, that is the only good news I can bring you. Things grow only worse in Konoha. I fear for our family. Takehiko has been developing at an alarming rate, but I still think him too young for the Academy. They've been trying to coerce me into sending him, claiming that it's only natural considering what a young age his father attended, but I don't want him to go. I've heard what the children are being taught there and I don't want that for our son._

_ I am making preparations to leave Konoha. I've decided to take the children back to Rain Country. Since my father is still allied with Konoha, hopefully the transition will go smoothly. So far I have not encountered any obstacles, but I have been keeping my head down just as you always advised._

_ I feel that this will be best for the children. I am sorry to take them away from Konoha, but they will be safe with my father and me. Hopefully I will be able to contact you there, and maybe you will be able to get in touch with us as well._

_ The house is being abandoned, and there's not much room for personal belongings. The children will have plenty at my father's house, though, so I'm not worried about taking any of their toys, except for the stuffed dog you bought Take. However, I know that your father's tantou was very important to you, so I have sent it with this letter. I'm not sure both pieces have made it to you intact, but I did try my best._

_ I hope you are safe._

_ Love,_

_ Yousei_

Sakura's voice hitched around the last words. Kakashi listened numbly to the shuffling of parchment as she rolled the papers back into their tight coil. She dragged it out for as long as possible, being very particular about tucking the paper back into the scroll, but eventually she could find no excuse to distract them with noise and set the scroll on the nightstand. Her hand did not return to his but instead met its partner in her lap, twisting anxiously.

"Kaede…" Kakashi whispered. All of the time he had spent in captivity, he had wondered about this child. Was it a boy or a girl? Whom did it take after? The most elusive question of all, _What is its name_, had now been answered for him. It helped a little, but there were still so many questions.

And they would probably never get answered. His jaw was tight as he dared to look at Sakura again; she was staring down at her hands as they fumbled at nothing.

"How long ago…?"

He didn't need to finish. "A year," she answered. "And the… the sword did get here. Both pieces. I have it in the drawer…"

Frowning, he summoned the words to ask, "And Ame, is it… are they doing well? Are they okay?"

"They…" Sakura shrugged, still avoiding his gaze. "Communications in and out of Ame are mostly blocked. They've jumped back onto the paranoia bandwagon. We're not at war with them, so hopefully they are… okay." Tension ruptured the voice she was working to keep smooth.

Kakashi groaned. He was so very, very tired.

The bed creaked as he changed position again, moving slightly to the left. Jiggling his outstretched hand, he watched her carefully. Words were coming to him slowly, but he wanted her to understand the things he couldn't say.

She took his hand gently in her own, perhaps a little cautiously. "Kakashi…" she said again, worrying her bottom lip. "I was…"

Scared? Upset? Bitter? Lonely? She didn't say. Her eyes seemed to suggest all four. Hoping to ease her distress, he intertwined her fingers with his own, smiling vaguely up at her.

"You." he murmured. Guarded, her eyes nevertheless betrayed a shimmer of hope. "I love you…"

Sakura choked back a sob. It wasn't exactly what he had expected, but it wasn't the worst, either— she could have slapped him. Then again, an angry Sakura was easier to deal with than a sad one…

"Stupid," she said with a tremor. Her free hand moved up to his face. Knuckle trailing his cheekbone, she wiped away something wet. "You are so stupid."

Just as he sleepily decided that a slap would have been better, his view darkened as her head came down and blocked the light. His closing eye saw her silhouette move in, and tenderly, oh so tenderly, she kissed the wet trail where his tear had been.

* * *

Sakura bent her head bitterly against the cold winds, muttering a whole host of mutinous curses directed at the abysmal weather. Trudging around the bend of a snowbank, however, her face lightened; through the heavy snow she could just make out her cabin, steadfast in the blizzard.

With renewed enthusiasm she picked up speed, running through the accumulated feet of snow. She tripped a few times but was not deterred— smoke rose from the chimney, promising warmth within.

As she neared the house she spotted something through the frosted window. Squinting, she tried to make sense of the rectangular white mass. It was only when she got closer that she realized it was a newspaper; someone was reading it at the window.

There was only one person that could be. Sakura grinned in spite of the cold, hurrying across the short distance to the cabin.

It took great effort to heave open the door; she heard the wind howl with triumph as it fought its way into the cabin, but she moved through the gap quickly and slammed her body against the door to shut it again. The storm was abruptly muted, and Sakura sagged down the wood with relief. She _hated _snow.

Shaking her fist at the door, she unwrapped her scarf and walked over to the window she had viewed from outside.

Kakashi was sitting there, crisply turning a page in the newspaper. He did not look over at Sakura but dragged his finger down the paper and flipped briefly back to the page before.

She stopped behind him, peering over his shoulder. "What are you doing?" she asked, still smiling at the sight of him.

He took a moment to answer, clearly quite involved in his activity. "Looking for the continuation of an article…" he muttered finally. "Not sure we have that page…"

Sakura frowned sympathetically. "I'm sure it was just garbage anyway," she offered in consolation. _The Konoha Leaf_ was no more than a propaganda rag. It was only Kakashi's insistence that they subscribe that pushed Sakura to get it in the first place.

"Hm." He closed the newspaper neatly along the folds as he always did, creasing each once before setting the paper down on his lap. "Maybe. It was about me."

"_What_?" Sakura cried, her face suddenly ashen. She snatched the newspaper from his lap, tearing it open and scanning frantically through the middle.

"Front page," Kakashi helped.

She flipped back to the front and saw ugly black letters staring at her: _FUGITIVE HATAKE KAKASHI ALIVE AND AT LARGE_.

A deep frown turned Sakura's face. " 'Presumed dead Konoha jounin Hatake Kakashi, age 38, has been discovered to be alive,' " she read aloud. " 'Previously believed to have spilled state secrets before being killed by Iwa nin, recent intelligence has discovered that Hatake was not killed by the Iwa nin but _agreed to work with them and only just now turned traitor to them too_?' "

Fury rippled through her in an uncontainable wave. She rounded on her lover sitting in his chair. "Kakashi, this is terrible! How can they say this about you? Those— those— They are such _PIGS_!" She threw the paper to the ground in disgust.

" 'The fugitive traitor is now on the run,' " Kakashi recited. " 'Having escaped from Iwa, he is thought to be headed east, possibly to seek refuge with distant relatives in Kumogakure, or south to his wife and children in Amegakure. Although it is preferable to bring him in alive for questioning, this despicable traitor is officially a Konoha missing nin and can be killed on sight.' "

A ringing silence filled the thin air. Sakura was so overpowered by the vile nature of Danzou's treachery that she could only gape out the window unseeingly.

This was too much. After all that Kakashi had done, all that he had sacrificed for the village, he was being treated with the indignity of a selfish traitor?

"Kakashi, I…" She was lost for words but wanted to somehow comfort him. He too was staring through the snow-speckled windowpane, watching the shrieking blizzard outside from the safety of their small cabin.

He did not say anything for a long while. Only the blustering gusts made any noise. Eventually, he spoke up in a wistful voice. "I wonder what she looks like… my daughter."

Sakura bit her lip. He wondered about that a lot these days— he was always rhetorically asking himself what she might look like, what she might sound like, whether or not she would be afraid of him as Takehiko had been. Sakura had no answers for him, but he liked to torture himself with the questions anyway.

Since he returned, Kakashi was quieter than ever. He mostly kept to the cabin out of necessity; it wouldn't do to have him out in the open, as the _Konoha Leaf_'s headline reinforced. Occasionally he took walks through the snowy woods, but always disguised with a henge. She thought he might train there, too, to build his strength up during his recovery. The forest spilled across the border, and at the camp on the other side were stationed many of his friends. He had to be careful to avoid them.

She sighed, rubbing her temple with sudden exhaustion. Sometimes, he really seemed like the ghost she had thought him to be when he came knocking on her door. He was so full of yearning, and she so desperate to make him forget about it, it was no wonder they sought reassurance in the other's flesh.

Two pale hands rose to massage his shoulders. Kakashi hummed, and Sakura placed a soft kiss on the back of his head.

"Things will work out," she promised.

Kakashi said nothing.

* * *

By coincidence, Kakashi and Sakura had met on the way back to the cabin. Sakura was returning from a meeting at the base about the progress of the war, while Kakashi had been training in the woods. They had emerged from the trees at approximately the same time; Kakashi had spotted and hailed her, and now they were walking together down the path.

The road was pockmarked with puddles and lined with melting heaps of snow. Spring was coming to Waterfall in a slow thaw.

"I saw a bird," Kakashi said, skirting around a puddle.

"Ooh!" Sakura smiled. "What kind?"

"Hmm… not sure," Kakashi admitted. "I saw it from a distance. It was brown, pretty generic."

"Nothing generic about a bird," countered Sakura. Without prompt she linked her arm through his, resting her head against his bicep. "God, do I miss birds."

Kakashi brushed his lips across the top of her head. "Don't worry. The snow will all be melted soon."

Sakura wrinkled her nose. "Good," she said emphatically. "I hate snow."

Chuckling, Kakashi tucked an errant lock of bubblegum pink hair behind her ear and pulled up her hood. "Still cold, though. Don't get too liberal just because the snow is melting."

She let out a _humph _of discontent but did not protest when he tugged the strings at her chin to tighten the hood snugly around her face.

They arrived at the cabin without difficulty; the winds were very mild today. Kakashi sent a small stream of his chakra through the lock to open the door but found that the bolt was already undone.

"Huh," he muttered to himself. "Must've forgotten to lock it…" It wouldn't have been the first time. These days, things often slipped his mind.

He swung it open and Sakura hurried gratefully inside. She pushed her hood down and began to pull off her mittens, throwing the damp woolen hands to the ground as she turned to smile at Kakashi.

He smiled faintly back, but his gaze floated past her, meandering towards the kitchen. Nothing unusual on the walls— no traps or tags that Kakashi could see. His precautionary sweep dropped to the floor.

His heart nearly stopped.

Trailing along the dark wooden slats was a set of large, wet footprints.

Oblivious at first, Sakura quickly noticed the tension in his body. She looked quizzically at him and opened her mouth to speak, but Kakashi raised a finger to his own, appealing to her for silence. Something slid into place in her eyes, and she was instantly on guard.

Stealth silencing his step, Kakashi moved slowly towards the kitchen. His fingertips had sought assurance in the curved end of a kunai knife. Sakura stayed behind him; it probably would have made more sense to have her go in front, as he was the wanted criminal, but there was something so curiously familiar about the sense of danger in the cabin that Kakashi could not help himself.

His slow steps brought him into view of the kitchen as he began to pass the corner obscuring it.

Propped up on the table was a pair of black boots.

Kakashi threw his kunai at once but it was instantly deflected; ducking around the table he threw another at the intruder. He could hear Sakura joining in as well with an almighty punch that split the table into splinters.

The intruder missed both attacks. He jumped out of the way and held up an arm cloaked in black to stop the broken pieces of wood from hitting him in the face.

Kakashi pulled a row of shuriken out of his pouch and held them ready in his fingers, but something made him pause. Sakura too froze into place as the intruder lowered his arm, for while the arm still blocked his face, they could clearly make out the man's unmistakable spikes of black hair.

"Sasuke?"

Said man brought his arm to his side to look at Sakura. "Yes," he said. A wry smirk twisted his lip. "You two have great hospitality."

Kakashi scowled, not letting his guard drop an inch. "What do you want?" he spat.

Sasuke turned slowly to face Kakashi, cool smirk still in place. There was no lost love between these men. "It's satisfying to see that you got out of Oto all right, Kakashi," he said.

In his periphery vision Kakashi could see Sakura cock her head to the side, but Kakashi only narrowed his eyes. "I don't have time for your games, Sasuke," he growled. "If you're going to try to turn me in, just get on with it so I can kill you."

"This is the gratitude I get?" Sasuke crossed his arms. He was wearing a nondescript black cloak, the hood pooling around his shoulders. "After all I did for you…"

"Did for him?" Sakura snarled. "All you've done for anyone recently is lick Danzou's boots like a dog!"

"Careful, Sakura," Sasuke warned.

Kakashi bristled with anger. "Don't talk to her that way," he snapped. "You have no damn right to talk to her that way."

Sasuke's smile had vanished. He faced Kakashi with a cold frown. "It would be just as easy— no, _easier_ to put you back in Oto than it was to break you out."

Kakashi's brow furrowed and Sakura gave a sharp demand of "_What_?" Sasuke nodded, never breaking his gaze from Kakashi's. "I worked behind the scenes to make sure conditions would be… ideal for your escape."

"Why should we believe you?" Sakura yelled. Both men looked away from each to instead focus on the angry young woman spitting fire Sasuke's way. "You're just a dirty turncoat, Sasuke! After all that _we _did for _you_, you just gave us the cold fucking shoulder, and for what— to become Danzou's _bitch_?" She spat on the ground in front of him.

Sasuke flinched but did not retaliate. He looked coldly from Sakura to Kakashi, leveling the latter with a restrained glare.

"We don't like each other," he said plainly. "And it's true; I am allied with Danzou now. Because unlike you two, I know how to play with power and keep things in my favor."

"Become a traitor, you mean," Sakura said casually.

Sasuke gave a very put-upon sigh. "If Danzou gets too troublesome, I'll just kill him," he said, "but right now it's nice to be so close to power without the blood of a mutiny on my hands."

Kakashi raised his chin appraisingly at Sasuke. He had always been a cold boy, but this man was so hardened and frigid that he was barely recognizable. Gone was the irrational youth bent on revenge no matter the idiocy or the cost. In his place stood this jaded politique, the epitome of pragmatism.

A man so guarded was nearly impossible to read, but Kakashi _had _wondered why fate had favored him the day he managed to break out. Everything had gone according to plan and better.

Every part of Kakashi rejected the idea that Sasuke had helped him. No matter how hard Sasuke tried to defend himself with the excuse of expediency, there was no getting around the fact that Sasuke had spurned them at every possible turn. Whenever they tried to "rescue him", as they had so naively put it, he had let them know that he considered them no better than the dirt on the soles of his sandals. And yet… _and yet…_

Kakashi swallowed. "Why are you here?" he asked. The question was not accusatory but it was not inviting, either. "Surely not just to brag."

Sasuke uncrossed his arms to flick a splinter of wood from his robe. "Sakura."

Kakashi snarled and Sakura pulled back her face in disgust. "Pig!"

"Not that," Sasuke said irritably. "I helped Kakashi, but now it's time to help you."

His eye a calculating slit, Kakashi frowned at Sasuke. "Why does Sakura need helping?"

"And why is it _your _help that I need?" Sakura added scathingly.

With a short sigh, Sasuke leaned back against the counter leisurely. His fingers were white against the dark wood.

"Danzou is insane," he started. "I'm sure you've suspected that for a long time now. Everyone is an enemy to him, but _you_" — he inclined his head at Sakura, who watched with wide, wary eyes — "are now featured prominently in his skewed focus. He wants—"

"To kill me," Sakura finished, but Sasuke shook his head.

"Not kill you," he said quietly. "Your talents are far too useful for that. Your thoughts, on the other hand, are volatile, colored by Tsunade and Naruto, out of his control…"

"He wants to brainwash her." The words left Kakashi's mouth with a choke in the back of his throat.

Sakura's jaw dropped and she turned to Sasuke, her eyes pleading for a denial, but he only nodded grimly.

"No!" Sakura stood up straighter, looking around as if scouting for Danzou. "He can't do that— that's worse than killing me!"

"I agree," Sasuke said. His voice was calm, in contrast to Sakura's obvious terror and Kakashi's own racing heart. "That's why I'm here to help you."

"How can you help me?" Sakura retorted, bitterness souring her tone, but Kakashi was already beginning to understand. Sasuke hated Danzou more than anyone for the role he had played in Itachi's disgrace and the death of his clan. He had been courting Danzou's favor for a _reason_. Kakashi had always just assumed that it was something Sasuke saw as a necessary step to power, but perhaps he had hoped to have a little leeway when dealing with the fates of people who were important to him.

Kakashi studied Sasuke with care and measured his words as he spoke. "You can offer her protection?" he asked shrewdly.

Sasuke nodded at him. "I can," he promised, and he was at least putting on sincerity because it was there, glowing dully in his eyes like embers from a dying flame. "If Sakura is under my protection, Danzou won't forcibly indoctrinate her; he'll be able to keep an eye on her in Konoha. There's no way she can be taking part in his imagined rebellion if she's right there under his nose, and under my nose to boot."

"You think your influence will be sufficient?" Kakashi pressed. He wouldn't admit it, but part of him was desperately prodding for a loophole.

"I don't ask many favors," Sasuke gave as answer. Having made his case, he recrossed his arms and watched them expectantly.

Sakura turned reluctantly towards Kakashi. Indecision made her eyes dart across his figure, landing anywhere but his face. "I don't…"

He walked over to her, touching her on the elbow. "I know," he said. His voice was soft with helpless understanding. "I don't want you to go either, but… I don't think we have a choice."

He meant it, too. This was the absolute last thing he wanted. As much as he loathed admitting it, though, Sasuke was much better equipped to protect Sakura than he was. If she stayed with Kakashi, they would be together for a little while before Danzou came to collect their heads. If she went with Sasuke, they would never see each other again, but she would be safe.

"I want you to have something," he said. Wide green eyes followed him as he went over to the nightstand beside her bed, pulling open the drawer. Carefully, he retrieved a wrapped parcel, holding it with both hands. He nudged the drawer shut with his hip and walked back over to the kitchen.

"It's my father's tantou," he explained needlessly, handing it to Sakura. "It's broken, though, so you'll have to be careful…"

She accepted it. Fat tears squeezed out of her shining aquamarine eyes. "Thank you," she gulped, setting it down on a chair beside her. "I'll keep it safe…"

Lovingly, he took her hands in his and interlocked their fingers. "It'll be okay," he said. "Things will work out."

Her lip trembled at his echoed promise. Hating the tremble, he slid his mask down to his neck and angled his lips at hers. A delicate kiss and intertwined hands held them together for a few agonizingly short moments, and then he pulled away.

* * *

Sakura's hands fidgeted in her lap. "Are you sure we have to take a cart?" Anxiety laced her complaint. "Going by foot would be so much easier…"

Sasuke frowned blankly at her from the opposite bench. The cart jostled them both as the horse took them over a particularly large bump, but he remained impassive.

"Yes," he said simply. "I had to get official permission to collect you, you know."

She turned her nose up at him in revulsion. "Don't talk about me like an object," she sniffed.

He merely shrugged and looked away, more interested in the muddy landscape than her livid expression.

Her nails picked at each other in agitation, running unevenly through the dirt caked beneath them.

Vague annoyance crossed Sasuke's haughty features. "Why aren't you wearing mittens?" he asked, a hint of disapproval in his tone.

Sakura looked him in the eye.

"I'm pregnant," she announced.

Sasuke blinked. For the longest time he could only stare, nonplussed. The cart rocked as their horse pulled them down the path. Finally, he said, "That doesn't explain why you're not wearing mittens."

"… I forgot them."

"Oh. We'll buy you some, then." He settled into a more comfortable position on the hard wooden seat.

Sakura could only look away and try not to cry.

* * *

Sai watched Yousei with bated breath, eye sharp to calculate her reaction. She was staring numbly at the table as she had for most of his story, listening for the next part with pursed lips and wide, gray eyes.

"Would you like me to continue?" he asked. He had been expecting her to gasp or cry out, but perhaps he had misjudged how teenage girls were wont to act. Making a mental revision to his never-ending notes on humanity, Sai waited patiently for Yousei's answer.

She didn't give one. She only continued to bore her eyes into the metal table.

"Okay," Sai said. "I'll keep going, then. Sakura moved back to Konoha with Sasuke, and Danzou accepted his compromise. I remember he was wary of it at the time, but he was satisfied enough with the arrangement not to press it. Sasuke even managed to shield her from interrogation about Kakashi's whereabouts.

"They married and raised the daughter together, giving her Sasuke's family name. Uchiha," he clarified, eyeing Yousei for a flinch of recognition, but she remained mute. It unnerved him. Was it just that she had already guessed the end of the story? Surely she could see where it was going. Maybe she was rejecting the implication, or maybe this was just how people came to terms with these things: quietly. Sai wouldn't know.

"Kakashi remained at large," he continued. "They never managed to track him down. Danzou attempted to spy on his family in Ame, but they never caught him there. Knowing Kakashi, he probably didn't want to endanger them with his association anymore than he already did.

"Sasuke's political influence saved Sakura and her daughter from many of the hardships that befell other citizens. This did not sit well with Sakura, who saw it not only as unfair to other people of Konoha but also as an unreliable safety net; however, Sasuke convinced her it was the only way to keep her daughter safe, so she acquiesced.

"But then Root started taking children into their program. Officially, only orphans were taken, but when it came to the children of political enemies, they could become orphans very quickly. Children were used as weapons against their parents; holding the threat of child abduction over the heads of contrary thinkers could cow even the most revolutionary rebel. Despite Sasuke's insistence that his influence would be enough to protect 'their daughter', Sakura worried for her."

At this point, Sai had to pause. This was the most painful part of the story for him. It was the part where he failed his friend, complicit in the organization that took everything from her.

He swallowed hard. His anxiety was coming back in full force. Still, Sai was master of his emotions even when he couldn't name them, so he kept his composure steadfast.

"She was right to worry. Danzou, in his ever-growing paranoia, feared that Sasuke and Sakura were indoctrinating the child to grow up and defeat him— keep in mind that she was a very gifted child. He considered her a legitimate threat. One day, Sakura's nightmare came alive… Root came knocking on her door, demanding her child to serve for the sake of the village."

Yousei bit her lip, and Sai saw that her eyes had grown wet. A small part of him identified with her pain at hearing this part of the story, but it was a distant part of him, an echo. He was so far removed from his own abduction that he could not remember anything about or before it.

He didn't even know what his name had been.

But she did. Uchiha Yousei had remembered her name, and Sai drew a sudden sense of hope from this fact. It was far too late for Sai himself — he had accepted this decades ago — but it was not too late for her.

Saying sorry would not be enough, he realized now, but he was doing more than apologizing. He was giving this girl her life back.

Emboldened, he resumed the story. "Sakura was working at the hospital when it happened. Sasuke had just come home from a mission; Danzou struck when he knew he was weakest, just as Kakashi had predicted. The girl was only four or five. Danzou himself was not present, but he sent so many Root operatives that the fatigued Sasuke was ultimately overwhelmed. That isn't to say that it was an easy fight; many members of Root died that day, and the struggle drew the whole village's attention. As you can imagine, this was not something that pleased Root— they liked to sweep things under the curtain.

"Sasuke wasn't done causing a scene, though. He had come to love the girl as a father would, and what Danzou had done finally crossed the line. Sasuke rushed to the hospital to tell Sakura what had happened, and she poured her chakra into healing him so that he could fight Danzou. She had enough energy left after that to help him get through Hokage Tower and clear the path to the upper offices, but it was Sasuke who came face to face with Danzou at last."

"They killed each other." Yousei had finally spoken. Her throat was tight and her voice was thick.

"Yes," Sai said with a nod. "They did." He waited to go on, wondering if she would say more, but she went right back to looking at the table as if it had shocked her.

He sighed and proceeded. "Konoha was in turmoil. Sakura tried to take advantage of the chaos, skipping past levels of bureaucracy in an attempt to rescue her child from Root. She was relentless; she banged on doors, shrieked down hallways— even destroyed a few hallways with her chakra-powered fists. She also…" His voice trailed off, threatening to be swallowed by shame, but he clung to his epiphany from earlier: He was helping Yousei. No matter his guilt, he was doing the right thing now, and that was what mattered. That was important.

Despite this conviction, he still had to suppress a shudder as he revealed the part of the story that damned him most. "She appealed to me, personally. That's how I know her story. We had been teammates once, many years ago. She hoped that our connection could help get her child out, but I… I couldn't manage to help her. Things were so chaotic, with Root locked in a bloody internal power struggle over who would succeed Danzou, not to mention stemming the disquiet in the village caused by Sasuke's public outrage— by the time I could devote enough time to her plea, the new Root leader had taken charge and a warrant was put out for Sakura's arrest as an enemy to the state."

He wanted to shut his eyes to protect him from the accusations she would surely hit him with, but— nothing. Not one damn word. She didn't even glare.

This didn't really help anything. The anticlimax left Sai with an uncomfortable sense of vertigo, heady and nauseating.

"I… regret that I couldn't help her when she needed it," he said, his voice faltering. "… I'm sorry."

Yousei did not respond.

He had done it. He had apologized. He hoped desperately that this would goad a reaction from her, but she did _nothing_!

Sai was seized by an irrational anger. What on earth was wrong with her? He had just admitted that it was his fault that she had been left to Root's devices for the last twelve years of her life, and she had no reaction?

But then Sai remembered, and his question answered itself. She had been left to Root's devices for the last twelve years of her life.

Trembling, he forced his guilt down like a large pill and kept talking around the lump in his throat. "Sakura had no choice but to flee Konoha. Thankfully, things were still turbulent enough that a well-organized hunter-nin squad was never sent out in time to track her. She managed to slip through their fingers.

"You might know the rest of the story. Root was never the same after Danzou, and the people weren't either. Child abductions stopped and the rebellion gained ground. The rebellion that Kakashi had been accused of participating in _had _existed; Naruto may or may not have been involved, but Kakashi and Sakura had been specifically excluded because they were too high-profile. Sakura's old classmates — the Naras, Akimichis, Yamanakas, and Inuzukas, to name a few — were behind the underground movement, and they gained strength until, a month ago, they overthrew Root."

He stopped to sigh before going into the final stretch. "For my association with Team Kakashi and my avoidance of nastier Root activities, I was spared by the revolutionaries. Now it is my job to help people like you find their families… Although I must confess that I have a special interest in you."

There it was. All of his cards were laid out on the table now. All that was left was for Yousei to react, to accept.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's not me," she said finally, her voice small. "I'm not their… Those aren't my parents."

Sai looked curiously at her, with her pink hair and gray eyes. "I think they are."

Slowly, she shook her head, still staring at the table. He doubted she was seeing it. "Uchiha Yousei probably isn't even my real name," she babbled, and she sounded strikingly similar to Sakura as she did. "I mean I could have made it up when I heard kids talking about the Uchihas, people like to think of what their name might have been… The officer always told me my imagination was too wild and that I had to tame it—"

"Stop."

She did, and the room fell quiet. Only the buzz of the fluorescent light above them and the incessant ticking of the clock interrupted the silence. Yousei's wide gray orbs finally rose from the table and locked with Sai's plain black ones.

He inclined his head in her direction. "What's that sword, on your back?"

The question startled her.

"My sword…" Caution curbed her obvious answer.

"Could you show it to me?" Sai requested politely.

A crease of dissent folded in her forehead, but then her eyes flickered up and down his black trenchcoat and she seemed to rethink it. Obediently but warily, she stood and drew the sword from its sheath on her back.

It looked very delicate. "Very nice," Sai admired. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like you demonstrate it for me."

She looked as if she minded very much, but she wasn't about to disobey a Root officer, no matter that the group was technically defunct. She held the sword surely in her hands, letting her eyes fall softly shut. Sai waited, the ticking clock punctuating the silence.

The sword began to glow.

White light swelled around the blade, crackling here and there with a spark of electricity. The growing glow cast strong shadows on Yousei's face and threw her smooth features into sharp relief. A low hum of energy filled the small room.

Yousei opened her eyes, and the calm strength in the dark gray was so familiar. She commanded the energy in the room, serenely in control of this ethereal light.

Sai watched with rapt attention, forgetting to breathe.

The light began to ebb away, retreating into the aged blade. Eventually it faded into nothing. The room was left looking just as it had before, but something had changed. Where before Sai had seen fear and denial in Yousei's eyes, now he thought he could detect the first fearful steps towards something greater.

"Where did you get that sword?" Sai's question seemed unnatural in the silence that the sword's display had left behind.

"My father came home with it one day," she recounted. "It had always been on the shelf, but it was broken, and one day he had it fixed. My mother said…" She swallowed. "My mother said it was a memento of my father. I was confused…"

Nodding, Sai explained, "It belonged to his father, too. Hatake Sakumo… Your grandfather."

Two tears rolled out of her eyes. She looked ashamed of them, turning her head away. Sai understood. In Root, they had been taught, there was no place for tears.

He mustered the gentlest smile he could. "I can help you find them, if you like," he offered. "Your mother and father."

Her lips parted, but not in answer— it was in a silent sob. Her face was screwed up in a wretched sadness complicated by confusion at the sensation of crying.

Unsure if what he was doing was following proper etiquette but suddenly not caring, he stepped towards her and put his arms around her in a hug. Both of them were stiff in the embrace, but he felt it was more out of inexperience than anything. Sai had memorized the diagrams in his books, but he had never actually hugged anyone before.

"There's someone I want you to meet first," he whispered, his pale chin resting on top of her pink head. "Someone who can help you."

Over her head, he nodded at the silhouette of someone who had been standing outside the door for some time now. The knob turned and with a creak the door opened.

Sai pulled away from Yousei and allowed her to turn towards the entrance, wiping her face hastily with an arm.

A young man stepped inside, tall and muscular. His outfit was an assortment of dull colors; on top of his netted undershirt he wore a torn blue vest, and his pants were simple and gray. The sandals on his feet were those of a shinobi, and a headband bearing the symbol of Amegakure was tied across his forehead, staving off his thick mane of silver spikes.

His guarded black eyes landed on Yousei, staring at her stoically. After taking in her appearance for a long, hard moment, he held out his hand to her. It was scarred and thick with calluses.

"Hatake Takehiko," he introduced himself.

Sai waited for a few excruciating seconds before Yousei extended her own slender hand, shaking Takehiko's warily. "Uchiha Yousei…"

The name made his eyes flicker, but he did not otherwise respond to it. As the handshake ended, he let his arm fall to his side, where his hand sought refuge in his pocket.

Even after having spoken with Takehiko before, Sai was still struck nearly speechless by his uncanny resemblance to his father. Stumbling slightly in his thoughts to fill in the silence, Sai said, "Now, ah, Yousei, Takehiko has come to Konoha in search of his father— he was hoping that Kakashi would have returned here when Root fell. However, it's possible that he's far away and has yet to hear the news."

"You think he's alive, then?" Yousei questioned, talking directly to Takehiko.

Her brother nodded. "I've been trying to track him down for a few years now," he said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. For a young man he already seemed so old, but that was how it often happened with ninja. "I'm fairly confident he's alive, but until now I've not been able to search in the open."

Yousei's dark eyes flashed back to Sai. "What about my… mother?" Her demand softened as she realized that without thinking she was already starting to accept the idea. All of the pieces fit together and the evidence was so obvious; it was impossible to deny her parentage at this point, but that didn't make it an easy thing to accept.

"They'll be together," Sai assured her. It was unlike him to express unconditional confidence like that, but even though it wasn't a logical fact, somehow Sai knew it to be true. "Find Kakashi and you will find Sakura."

Yousei nodded, and for the first time that evening, she gave Sai a small, hesitant smile.


End file.
